Discord
by Sweet Lu
Summary: The team starts to disintegrate during an operation and they all must figure out how to repair their broken relationships before it costs them one of their own.
1. Chapter 1

**Discord:** Chapter 1

...

Callen pulled against his bindings again, but they were so tight it did nothing but cause his wrists to bleed more. He shook his head to try and clear away the cobwebs clogging his brain and give himself some clarity on their situation, but that didn't work either. He could still feel blood seeping from the wound above his left ear and his knee was on fire with a pulsing pain that wouldn't go away. He glanced quickly at Kensi. She was tied tightly to the post next to him and she seemed to be regaining consciousness and that eased some of the guilt he was feeling. He tried to see how badly she was hurt, but the lighting was too dim in the gray room and he was having trouble focusing. He felt his anger boiling as he went over the mistakes he had made that had gotten them into this situation, questioning his own judgment once again.

"Kens, you okay?" He called to her, but she didn't respond. His anger increased as his eyes roamed the filthy room where they were being held. It smelled old and stank of urine and he shivered from the coldness that clung to it. The concrete walls were covered in ugly graffiti and the floor was littered with broken liquor bottles, used needles and assorted trash. The windows were high clerestories, which made him believe they were being held in one of the industrial building by the train yards, judging from the sounds he kept hearing.

"Callen?" Kensi's voice was shaky, but just hearing her speak sent a flood of relief through him.

Before he could answer, the metal door at the end of the far wall slid open and four men entered. The man leading the group walked up to him and began searching his clothing, quickly finding and confiscating his phone and identification. Then he did the same to Kensi, spending a little more time searching her and smiling as he did it. After he pocketed the items he started to put his hands on her when another man entered the room and walked rapidly up behind him, and yanked him away.

"Back off, Lugo!"

He shoved the man back and then spoke to him rapidly in Spanish, ending his monologue with a suggestive laugh. Lugo didn't join him in the laughter, but turned and left the room with a fierce look on his face.

The new man turned back toward Kensi. He was tall and lanky and dressed in dark clothes and a leather jacket. His hair was long and greasy and the look in his eye was predatory as he spoke to the men behind him in Spanish, his voice rough and low. His laugh was guttural and cold as he walked slowly toward Kensi, his icy eyes skimming over her body as a he licked his lower lip. Callen watched as she tried to shrink back from him, her eyes wary, but defiant. The man laughed again when he reached out and grabbed the hair at the back of her neck and yanked her head back. He kissed her cruelly as his free hand reached up under her shirt. His body pressed her hard against the post and Callen heard her moan and she began to struggle harder when his hand reached her breast.

"Stop it!" Callen yelled as loud as he could, but the man barely paused in his attack. He saw the others laughing and he thought they were looking forward to their turn and it made him sick to his stomach.

The man's hands began to move roughly over Kensi's body, pulling her shirt open and grabbing her by the waist and looking her body over hungrily and then he stared into her eyes before yanking her hard up against him as his mouth closed around the base of her neck. She struggled and gasped, but he didn't release her as his mouth moved up to her ear. He whispered something Callen couldn't hear, but Kensi's face became rigid as he spoke and she looked quickly at Callen when the man pulled back, running his tongue down along her jaw line. Her eyes flashed with fire as the man's hands slowly moved down her arms and around her back to her hands. His body slammed her hard against the post again as his mouth closed around hers, kissing her roughly as his body pressed against her. Suddenly he pushed himself off of her and laughed and hit her hard across the cheek with his open hand. He turned toward Callen and looked at him, his eyes dark and sorrowful.

One of the men started to move toward Kensi, but Max Gentry hit him in the face, knocking him to the floor.

"She's mine! Any of you touch her you're dead. Understand?" Max stared menacingly as the men nodded in agreement.

"I'll be seeing you two later tonight," Max said harshly to the two agents. "The boss wants to question you personally."

Then he indicated to the others that they should leave, and they did. He looked back at them both before following the men out and his eyes were full of regret as he looked sadly at Kensi, and Callen felt a chill as Deeks walked slowly out of the room and slammed the door closed.

"What the hell was that?" Callen asked heatedly. "I know he's undercover, but why did he do that to you?"

Kensi could see the raw anger in Callen's eyes. She smiled then and saw the look in his eyes change to confusion. Then he saw Kensi's hands come free and she held up the small knife that Deeks had given her. Callen shook his head and finally smiled, still trying to let go of his anger toward Deeks for how he had manhandled Kensi.

"I'm okay, Callen," Kensi reassured him as she cut him free. "He didn't hurt me." She understood how protective he felt toward her, but she was surprised he was angry with Deeks.

"I hate that alias. In fact, I'm not sure it is one." he grumbled as he felt the wound on the side of his head as it began to pulsate with a dull and powerful pain. He blinked as it sharpened and his mind clouded.

"You think Deeks is really Max?" Kensi helped him walk over to a bench next to the wall and sit down, taking some of the pressure off of his injured knee.

"Part of him, yes." Callen gasped at the pain when he flexed his knee and it worried him almost as much as the throbbing in his head.

"What other way was he going to pass the knife to me Callen?" Kensi was starting to get frustrated with him. She thought he had not been quite right since he'd been hit by that pickup truck when they were taken.

"You're right," he conceded as he tested his knee.

"Hetty was the one who insisted he go undercover on this op as Max Gentry," Kensi sat down and checked her own bruises. "He hated the very idea of resurrecting Max. He dreaded doing it so much, she had to threaten him with a suspension before he would agree."

"Was she serious?" Callen asked in surprise. But he knew Hetty and he knew he shouldn't have been.

"Deeks thought so and he was pissed," she shivered as she remembered his ranting monologue about the stubborn Operations Manager. "I'm pretty sure he based that alias on his father. You saw the look on his face when he left just now. He hated hitting me. It reminds him of what his father used to do to his mom and it scares him that he might be even a little bit like his father. Also, that's his alias and he had to stay true to Max or he might have blown his cover. You know that Callen. Plus, he set it up so no one else will touch me, and I'm grateful for that. Aren't you?" She looked quickly at Callen and she got a begrudging nod from him.

But Callen still couldn't shake the feeling he'd had while Deeks was roughing up Kensi. It had made his skin crawl and he had wanted to pound him into the ground, even though he knew it was Deeks and knew Deeks would never hurt Kensi. But he had slapped her and Callen still didn't agree that he needed to do that. He realized Deeks had been undercover as Max Gentry for over two months and had undoubtedly settled into that dark alias and sometimes it's hard to step back once you're in that mind set.

"What did he whisper to you Kens?" Callen asked as he walked around gingerly, testing his bad knee.

"He said he'd contact Hetty and let her know we were here," Kensi winced as Callen suddenly stumbled into her as his knee gave out. Her ribs were very sensitive where they'd kicked her, and Callen's elbow had slammed into them as he lost his balance. Now she was thinking some of them might even be cracked.

"If they try and rescue us, how is Deeks going to cover himself." Callen was breathing hard as he leaned back against the wall.

"We're just going to have to trust him," Kensi said, wondering again if Callen wasn't more badly injured than she had first thought. His thinking seemed slow and he wasn't as sharp as he normally was. She would have to be alert if his judgment became muddled.

...

"Mr. Deeks, why are you calling?" Hetty's voice sounded distant and decidedly unfriendly.

"They've captured Kensi and Callen and they're here at the rail yards."

"And, what have you done about it?"

"I managed to pass a knife to Kensi, so they should have cut themselves free by now. But the boss is coming later to interrogate them." He drew into himself at the tenor of her voice. She made him feel like it was his fault they screwed up and were captured. "Are you sending Sam and a rescue team?"

"No, that would blow the op, and we can't afford to do that." She was tight and upset about how things had gone since the beginning of this operation. Not one of her agents seemed to be on the same page as the other and none were on the page she was on and she didn't like it. Deeks had been fighting her the whole way and it irritated her. Callen had messed up and gotten him and Kensi taken hostage and Sam was furious that he hadn't been with the two agents when their surveillance had been discovered. Sam blamed Hetty for that and he was now sulking because he was worried about his partner.

"Hetty, do you want me to bring them out?" Deeks asked hopefully.

Hetty knew how much he hated this alias and it was clouding his judgment. Now she was starting to get really angry. "No, Deeks! I want you to help them escape and stay undercover."

She was short with him and he heard the anger and exasperation in her voice and he felt a flash of fury.

"Hetty, there hasn't been one mention of this group meeting with any terrorist organization wanting to buy arms in the two months I've been here." The fury evident in his voice was swift to arouse a response from his boss.

"Who do you think you are talking to Mr. Deeks?" Hetty's anger was not something anyone wanted to experience, especially a young man on the brink of becoming an agent and he realized his mistake almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

"If you want to run this office, please let me know and I can redo your application." The sarcasm dripped from her words and Deeks hurriedly backed down.

"Sorry, Hetty, I'm just worried, that's all," he replied softly and raked his hand through his hair in frustration. "Nothing seems to be going smoothly on this op." Dejection colored his words and Hetty reined in her anger and sought to sooth her agent's sullen mood.

"You're right about that, Mr. Deeks," she said kindly. "Can you get them out without compromising your cover?"

"I'll do my best, Ms. Lange," Then he hung up before she could reply and she wanted to throttle him again. His use of her last name disturbed her and she wanted to kick herself for her own impatience with him. She knew being Max Gentry for this long was bound to cause some problems. She could chalk up some of his surliness to the alias, but she was afraid she was losing control over her agent and worse than that, she was afraid Deeks was losing control of Max and that made her nervous and a little pissed off. Why the hell was this op so damn difficult, she wondered?

...

"I'm gonna pay the little chica another visit," Max informed the three men guarding the door. He had at least an hour before his boss Camacho got back, and that was going to have to be enough time for him to get Kensi and Callen out of here.

"Can we watch?" Sanza asked with a lurid grin.

"This one's gonna be private, pendejo," Max was instantly angry and his face a mask of venom. The men backed off and headed into the other room to put some distance between themselves and the volatile arms trafficker.

Max slid the door open and closed it loudly behind him. Kensi was kneeling next to Callen as she examined his knee, and Max felt a sliver of jealousy in the pit of his stomach. They looked at him expectantly and he stopped to get himself under control. This is really a shitty assignment and he couldn't wait for it to be over, he thought as he walked over to them.

"You hurtin', Callen?" he asked, trying to sound concerned, which for some reason, he wasn't and that surprised him.

"What does it look like, Deeks?" Callen was on edge and it came out in his voice.

"It looks like you screwed up, that's what it looks like to me," Deeks replied and the sound of his voice was pure Max Gentry and Callen was suddenly furious.

"Really? Speaking of screw-ups Deeks, you want to explain why you felt it necessary to paw and slobber all over your partner and then hit her? Is that the Max Gentry special?" Callen was on his feet now and the intensity in his eyes made Kensi step in between the two men. Kensi was surprised at the sudden animosity between them.

Deeks lunged at the agent and Callen slugged him hard in the mouth, bloodying his lip and nose and causing him to almost go down. Cold fury darkened Max Gentry's face and he charged the agent, penning him against the wall and holding him there.

"Stop it you two!" Kensi was trying to pull them apart, but the two men shoved and pushed each other as their anger grew.

"Did Max hit her, Deeks? Or was that really just you hiding behind a name?" Callen was enraged as he hissed roughly at Deeks, who fought past Kensi and swung wildly at the lead agent. Callen ducked and smashed his fist into the side of Deeks' head and he went down. Kensi slapped Callen and pulled him around to face her.

"What are you doing?" She asked in disbelief.

Callen wasn't finished. He kicked Deeks as he struggled to get up, knocking him onto his back. He lay there, staring up at his team leader with a stunned expression on his face.

"You're no better than your father, Deeks," Callen said harshly.

Kensi let go of Callen then and stared at him, not believing what she had just heard him say. Then she turned toward Deeks and bent to help him up from the floor, but he brushed her hand away and she saw a look of shocked hurt in his eyes, followed by pure anger. When he got to his feet he turned away from them both and walked toward the door. He stopped and leaned his head again the cool metal of the door and Kensi started toward him.

"Hetty wants me to help you escape, so be ready," his voice was flat and empty of emotion. Then he pulled the sliding door open and walked into the other room.

Kensi turned to look at Callen, who had sat back down on the bench and was holding his head in his hands as he stared at the floor

"Why did you say that?" Kensi whispered. "How could you do that to him, now?" She shook her head and walked toward the open door as gunfire erupted in the other room. She ran out in time to see Deeks shoot down the last of the three guards. Then he stood swaying slightly as he stared at her with a haunted look in his stormy blue eyes.

"Go get Callen."

Deeks didn't wait to see her leave; he just walked toward a set of double doors and stumbled as he reached them. He leaned silently against the wall, waiting for the two agents, his head down and his breathing labored.

Callen and Kensi were suddenly beside him and he opened one of the doors and handed Kensi a set of keys, their phones and IDs. He watched her silently as she helped Callen into the truck.

"Deeks," Kensi came quickly back to him, but he put his hand up to stop her.

"You better go now, Kens. Camacho will be here any minute, and you need to be a long way off when he and his personal bodyguards get here." He wouldn't look at her as he walked back inside and shut the door.

It wasn't until then that she saw the pool of blood where he'd been standing and her heart jumped. She would have followed him, but Callen was mumbling incoherently and she needed to get him to a doctor. Tears stood in her eyes as she drove away and her heart hurt as she remembered the look on Deeks' face when Callen had told him he was just like his father. Now, he was wounded and she wouldn't be there to help and to back him up. She hadn't felt this distraught in a long time.

"Hetty, I'm taking Callen to the hospital," Kensi said quietly into her phone. She felt disconnected and so depressed she could barely speak.

"Good, Ms. Blye. Deeks got you out." Hetty sounded cheerful and it made Kensi feel even lower.

"Deeks is wounded," she said with an ever-increasing sense of numbness.

"How bad, Kensi?"

"I don't know."

"Kensi, are you hurt?" Hetty was starting to sense there was more going on than Kensi was telling.

"Just a couple of sore ribs, I think," Kensi was pulling up to the emergency entrance and used that as an excuse to end her conversation with Hetty. Right now, she needed someone to help Callen, who had been unconscious for the last ten minutes. She was still angry with him, but she told the doctors what had happened to him and then went into the ER to wait for Sam, who she was sure was on his way. She would happily pass Callen off to his partner and then go see Hetty, to find out when they could get Deeks out of there.

...

Kensi walked out of the ER with a prescription for pain medication and in the darkest mood she had experienced in a long time. Sam had already gone to find out more about Callen's condition and she was glad he was gone. He hadn't even asked about Deeks and that had alienated her and made her feel even more isolated from the team.

"Kensi, we need to talk," Hetty stood in the middle of the waiting room and Kensi almost ran into her.

"Okay," she said without enthusiasm. "But you have to answer a question for me first."

"Really. And why is that, Ms. Blye?" Hetty glared at Kensi and felt herself stiffen.

"Because you sent Deeks in there as Max Gentry and now he's wounded and I want to know when you're going to pull him out." Kensi crossed her arms in front of her body to keep herself from shaking as she stared down at the tough little Ops Manager.

"I'll pull him out when I decide it's time to pull him out. Not before." Hetty stood her ground. "Certainly not when you think I should."

Suddenly Kensi lost it. She grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a vase of flowers and threw it against the wall. Hetty was shocked at Kensi's loss of control.

"Hetty, do you want him to get killed?" Kensi shouted.

"Of course I don't, Ms. Blye. Why would you think that?" Hetty was bewildered by her outburst and wondered once again if this operation was jinxed. Now she was sure there was something she hadn't been told.

"Kensi, what happened in there?" Hetty said calmly, back in control of herself and the situation.

Kensi told her what Deeks had done in order to pass her the knife and Callen's reaction to it.

"Hetty they fought and Callen hit and kicked him and told Deeks he was no better than his father," Kensi's anger was raw and Hetty was afraid the team's chemistry might be badly damaged by what had happened during this operation and she wasn't sure how to repair it.

"How did Deeks seem when you left him," Hetty's concern was evident and Kensi's anger subsided a little as she tried to remember everything that might help Hetty determine whether to pull Deeks out.

"He was distant and cold and wouldn't look at me," she said quietly. "Hetty I think he believed what Callen said and if he based Max Gentry on his father then I'm afraid he might just let himself be swallowed up by Max. Hetty we can't let that happen."

"You're right, Kensi," Hetty felt a sense of dread building in her gut and she didn't like it. "I'll talk with Callen when he comes out of surgery and make my decision then."

"Well, ask him to explain why in the middle of an op he went off on his own undercover agent," Kensi's voice was hard and angry and it surprised Hetty.

The team was now in deep turmoil and Hetty had to find a way to bring them together or this operation would be officially blown and the discord might just tear her team apart.

...


	2. Chapter 2

**Discord: Chapter 2**

...

Max waited until he heard Kensi and Callen leave in the truck, and then he slumped against the cold concrete wall next to the metal door, willing the boiling anger in his belly to subside, without success. His mind was so filled with white-hot rage at Callen that he was having trouble controlling himself. He knew he had better stop the bleeding from the wound low in his side, but he couldn't seem to move. His mind swirled with what had happened and he caught himself wondering if Callen hadn't been right to be angry with him. But he quickly pushed the thought away. What right did that asshole have to be angry with me, Max thought as a sharp pain sliced through his side, ratcheting up his anger as it peaked. He was the one who screwed up and got them captured, not me, Max hammered in his brain.

But Deeks was in his mind too, and the regret he had felt when he slapped Kensi returned briefly before he felt his stomach constrict with horror as he remembered the feeling of power it had given him. Callen had been right. Why had he hit her? He had gotten her the knife and all he needed to do was back away. But he hadn't done that. Instead, Max took the next step and slammed his hand across her cheek, because he could, because she was helpless before him and because he knew it would feel good to do it. As that realization solidified in his mind, he began to shake and he slid down the wall, gasping for breath and for a release that wouldn't come. He'd become what he had always feared he would, a reflection of his father; the bastard he had hated all of his life for what he'd done to him and to his mother. A bastard he had promised himself he would never be anything like. But now he had the proof that Callen's accusation was true. He was no better than his father and the self-hatred that knowledge produced filled him with so much agony he almost couldn't breathe as his heart pounded in his chest.

His mind filled with flashing images from his childhood. He remembered his mother's acceptance of the violence his father inflicted on her and his own fear and loathing of himself for nor being able to stop it even though he was just a child. The fear he had felt everyday was fresh in his mind again and he could hear the ranting of his father as he called him a pile of shit and told him he wasn't worth the effort it took to beat the crap out of him. The roaring of the past in his ears was so loud he didn't hear Lugo's approach, until the man grabbed his jacket and yanked him to his feet, shoving him so hard against the rough wall, his head bounced.

"What happened, you shit?" The words echoed his father's words that had just filled his mind and he shook his head, trying to return to the present.

"What?" Max blinked and then came storming back. He slugged Lugo so hard the man landed on his butt on the dirty concrete floor, looking up at Max with surprise.

"Don't forget who you're dealing with, you ugly fuck," Max shouted coldly down at him. He was firmly back in control and he wouldn't relinquish it easily again.

Suddenly the deadly standoff between the two men was broken as his boss entered, surrounded by bodyguards.

"Max, what the hell happened? Where are the Feds?" Vincent Camacho angrily demanded as he looked around at the bloody dead bodies of three of his men.

"This asshole's a cop," Max's accusation stunned everyone, including Lugo, who Max was now pointing his gun at as he tried to stay on his feet. "He shot us down, Camacho. I was wounded, but came to in time to see him help the two Feds escape." Max's hold on his gun began to waver as the blood loss and pain began to overtake him.

His mind slowly faded to gray as Lugo called him a liar and scrambled to his feet, pulling his gun as he did. Max heard the sound of two gunshots as he slowly lost consciousness, not sure if he would ever wake up again.

...

"Kensi!" Sam finally shook her shoulder to get her attention. "Where's your head? I called your name three times."

The look of exasperation on his face did nothing to Kensi, she just looked at him without interest and her eyes barely registered his presence. "What?" She asked.

"Callen has a fractured skull." Sam's face settled into a look of concern and guilt. "The doctors said there was no inter cranial bleeding, but they wanted to know if he was having any mood swings, aggressive behavior or had difficulty concentrating after it happened. So I told them you could provide that information."

"All of the above," was all she said and then she got up and started to walk out.

Sam grabbed her arm and swung her back to face him, and he didn't like the look of fury on her face when he did.

"What's wrong with you?" Sam was suddenly furious with her. "Don't you care what's going on with G?"

Kensi let her head drop and she shook her head before looking at Sam. "Of course I'm concerned. I'm sorry, Sam. I'm just really worried about Deeks and I'm still a little mad at Callen for what he said to him before he helped us escape."

Sam was confused by Kensi's lack of empathy for Callen. She had always been the first to want to comfort one of them if they were injured, so her reaction this time surprised him.

"What happened, Kens?"

So she told Sam everything and watched his face register amazement when she told him about the fight between Callen and Deeks.

"He told Deeks he was just like his father, Sam," Kensi said solemnly. "He's undercover as an alias he hates, one that's based on his violent father and Callen tells him that?" Sam could see the tears that suddenly filled her eyes and he reached out to touch her, but she pulled away.

"That's not like G, Kens, you know that," Sam said. "He had a fractured skull and that can account for all those things he said and did."

"Yeah, but at the time, Deeks didn't know that." Kensi sat down on one of the hard plastic chairs in the waiting room and wished she could slam one across the room she was so frustrated and afraid.

"Sam, he was wounded getting us out. And when I left him he wouldn't talk to me, hell, he wouldn't even look at me, and that scares me Sam, because that's not Deeks, that's pure Max Gentry."

"You're right," Sam said quietly. "Both of our partners aren't themselves right now and there's nothing we can do about it."

They looked wearily at each other and then Sam wrapped Kensi in a bear hug she desperately needed and that's how Hetty found them.

"I'm glad to see someone on this team is getting along," Hetty looked tired, but resolute. "I thought about what you said, Ms. Blye. And since Mr. Callen is in no shape to run this op right now, it falls on me to make the decisions."

"What do you want us to do, Hetty?" Sam asked, getting his game face on.

"I want you two to take a Tactical Squad and raid that warehouse where Deeks is and bring him out." Hetty saw Kensi sigh with relief and they both nodded and headed back to ops to prepare.

If Deeks was right, that the group he had infiltrated had made no contact with any terrorist group, then she was confident she had made the right call and nothing was lost. But if he was wrong, and they had blown the operation with nothing to show for it, then she had to be satisfied with the rescue of her team, and she would never be sorry about that, because they were more important to her than any one op. She just had to hope the people up the chain of command felt the same.

...

"You ready, Kens?" Sam said into the com link.

"Ready,"

"Go! Go! Go!"

Sam and his three squad members breached the warehouse on the south side, while Kensi and her three breached the north entrance. They were prepared for an intense firefight, but all they encountered was the echo of their own voices in the vast empty space. Kensi raced from room to room searching for Deeks, until Sam yelled for her. She felt her heart almost stop when she heard his voice and she slowly walked into the room where she had last seen Deeks. Dread seeped into her soul as she saw a body lying on the dirty floor by the door she had fled through only hours before and she stopped and stared, afraid to blink. There was a dark leather jacket draped over the head and shoulders of the body and she felt herself go ice cold as she recognized Max Gentry's signature piece of clothing.

Sam caught her as she collapsed.

...


	3. Chapter 3

**Discord: Chapter 3**

...

It felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. No one moved in the chilling stillness. They were all frozen in space and in time, each person knowing how much would change if what they all feared was revealed to be true the moment that dark leather jacket was removed from the body lying on the floor.

Sam's mind raced backward through a kaleidoscope of memories of Deeks. Images full of laughter and wise ass remarks, late morning arguments over coffee about everything from his tardiness and his surfing excursions to the scruff on his face and his long, unruly hair; all rushed past his mind's eye. He could hear himself scolding and grumbling about Deeks' abilities and his trade-craft, but that was followed by stark black and white flashes from firefights where Deeks had covered his back, shouts of warning that had saved his life and calls for status reports. Sam remembered his anger at him when he was shot at the convenience store and the admiration he felt when he saw him bleeding outside the hospital after he had rushed down a flight of stairs to save Kensi's life. He remembered sitting beside him in hospital beds and trying to console him when he lost him memory. Sam's mind flashed on his resentment when Deeks first came to the team and his begrudging acceptance and respect that happened over time, when he slowly realized he made the team better.

But more than anything else, his mind couldn't separate the man from the woman he was now holding tightly in his arms. Whoever was under that jacket would determine Kensi's future and he could feel her trembling and he wanted to keep her from knowing the truth just a little bit longer, because he couldn't bear to see her crushed by the devastation it would bring to her life if it was Deeks lying dead on that cold, filthy floor.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Kens." he whispered and everyone waited, because they knew it was her decision to make. And they were all willing to wait until she was ready.

"I have to know, Sam. I don't want to...but I need to." Her voice broke at the end and Sam pulled her closer.

Sam nodded to his squad leader. The man took a deep breath and knelt down next to the body and looked at Kensi to confirm. She nodded, and then closed her eyes and steeled herself for Sam's reaction.

He removed the jacket and the soft sound of everyone releasing their breath at the same time filled the room.

"It's not him, Kens," Sam said hoarsely and felt his chest swell and a smile spread across his face as he lifted Kensi off the floor and hugged her so tight her sore ribs almost cracked.

Silent tears spilled down her face as she clung to Sam, too weak to trust her legs as each squad member stepped up to touch her or whisper their relief.

"Sam?" Her voice was barely audible as she leaned against his chest and tried to calm her hammering heart.

"Yeah, Kens?"

"Where is he?"

"I don't know, Kens. We'll just have to wait for him to check in." Sam could feel the tension that still gripped her body and he knew the fear was still there. He felt it too, but they would deal with whatever happened as a team. They always had, until this operation. Now, he needed to talk to Callen. He was the leader and it would be up to him to salvage the break between himself and Kensi and Deeks. From what Kensi had told him, that wasn't going to be easy, especially with Deeks.

...

Callen was getting pissed off, but when he tried to sit up, the room began spinning so violently he felt like he was going to throw up. The doctors had warned him, but he didn't want to listen. He just wanted to go back to work, but he knew they weren't going to let him do that for at least a few days. He closed his eyes tightly and the dizziness slowly subsided, but the anger remained. He was frustrated that he couldn't remember everything that had happened, and what he did remember was fuzzy. His mind told him he had hit Deeks, but that just didn't make sense. Why would he hit his own undercover agent?

Then he remembered. Deeks had slapped Kensi hard, after almost assaulting her just to pass her a knife and the anger he had felt then exploded inside of him again and he couldn't seem to control it. He hated Max Gentry and he hated Deeks for being him. Was that unreasonable, he wondered?

Suddenly, his head rang with reverberating pain and he gripped the bed railings as he lost all sense of where he was or why. He wanted someone to make it stop, but it gripped his mind and body in a vise and he started to pant as the pressure in his head increased. He tried to get out of bed, to run away from the pounding pain, but the room spun and he held on for dear life until a nurse happened to come in and release more pain medication. As the terrible pain receded, he heard the door to his room open and heard Sam's voice and he struggled to open his eyes.

"Hey, partner," Sam said softly. "How you doing?"

When Callen opened his eyes there was an intensity there that Sam never saw unless they were under heavy fire and in danger of dying.

"Where's Deeks?" His voice came out harsh and unforgiving.

"We don't know where he is Callen." Sam said softly, trying to calm his partner's unreasonable anger. "He was wounded getting you out and Hetty sent us in to extract him. When we got to the warehouse, everyone was gone except for a dead body that was covered by Max Gentry's jacket."

Callen's eyes widened when he heard that and a hollow feeling enveloped him as he realized what they all must have thought. "Was Kensi with you?"

"Yeah, G, she was. It was terrifying for all of us, but especially for her." Sam wanted Callen to understand what everyone had gone through as they waited to know if Deeks had been killed.

"We all thought it was Deeks, G."

"But it wasn't."

"No."

"How's Kensi?" Callen seemed chastened by what had happened and Sam thought that was a start.

"She's a wreck and still worried about him," Sam watched Callen closely, trying to decide if it was the right time to question him about what had happened between him and Deeks.

"Any idea where they all went?" Callen's mind was trying to work toward a solution, but it was so muddled, he couldn't put any coherent sequence together. He shook his head in frustration as pain pulsed again along the side of his head.

"Are you okay, G?" Sam gripped his partner's arm and he worried that Callen would be out of commission for some time and that bothered him.

They needed to find Camacho's group and they needed to know if Deeks was able to continue his assignment or if he was so badly wounded they needed to get him out of there. Hetty had tasked Eric and Nell with trying to locate where they might go next, but so far they had come up blank. Sam thought he should wait for morning before confronting Callen about his fight with Deeks, but his partner had other ideas.

"I hit him, Sam," Callen said quietly and there was confusion in his voice. "I was so angry with him for slapping Kensi, that I lost control. It was Max Gentry I was furious with, but I couldn't seem to separate Deeks from his alias. I knew Deeks wouldn't do anything to hurt Kensi, but in my mind Max would. I know he had to stay undercover and that he was just trying to make sure no one would realize he was passing Kensi the knife, but he didn't have to hit her, Sam."

"I'm sure he regrets it G," Sam said. "He's been undercover as Max for over two months. He probably did it without thinking."

"Sam, I wanted to beat the shit out of him!" Callen's anger was rising again, and Sam saw just a little of what he had directed at Deeks in that warehouse.

"Did he say something to make you want to hit him?" Sam asked.

"He told me I screwed up and got us captured," Callen remembered the rage he felt when he heard Max Gentry say that. He knew it was something Deeks would never say, but his alias had no compunction against calling him out.

"He was right, Sam," Callen covered his face with his hands as the mistake he made replayed in his mind. He was still amazed they had both survived. They probably wouldn't have if Camacho hadn't wanted to question them. If Deeks hadn't managed to get them out, both he and Kensi would have suffered much worse than a slap on the face. He had saved their lives.

"Why did you tell Deeks he was no different than his father? You knew that would hurt him more than a punch in the mouth." Sam realized he felt angry with his partner for saying that to Deeks. They all knew how much Deeks hated his father and they all knew some of what his father had done to him, so being told he was like him was cruel and Sam needed to know why his partner would lay that on Deeks while he was in such a stressful situation.

"I don't know Sam. I couldn't control myself," Callen was trying to understand it himself.

"Yet you blamed Deeks when he couldn't control himself as Max."

"It's not the same Sam."

"Why not? We've all had to hit each other while we've been undercover. It's part of the job, G. You know that." Sam crossed his arms and glared at his partner for his lack of understanding and remorse. "You once beat the crap out of me as a Russian enforcer, and I didn't hold it against you. Was Kensi upset with Deeks for hitting her?"

"No. She said he didn't hurt her, that he was protecting her." Callen answered as he laid his head back on his pillow.

He began to question his actions and reproach himself for his treatment of Deeks. He had put him in a terrible state of mind while undercover but he knew he could do nothing about it now. He could only hope that Deeks could control his alias instead of the other way around, because Callen wasn't sure what would happen to Deeks' psyche if Max took over. Deep down Callen knew Deeks was nothing like his father, but Max Gentry was the embodiment of that violent and brutal man. Callen feared he had caused Deeks to believe what he had said to him in that warehouse, and if he did, then he was weakened by it and that small part of him that was Max Gentry would take full advantage of that weakness. Callen was afraid that belief might cause Deeks to give into his baser instincts instead of fighting them as he had his whole life.

"What have I done Sam?"

* * *

><p>Thanks for all the encouraging reviews. I enjoyed them all. There is more intrigue to come and I look forward to reading your comments.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Discord: Chapter 4

...

He saw her watching him. She had been looking over at him ever since he came into the bar three hours ago. She wasn't his type, but she had a certain beauty and Max Gentry had never worried about types much anyway. He motioned to the bartender to refill his shot glass and stole a look at her through the haze of cigarette smoke. His vision was a little blurry from the amount of whiskey he'd had, but he could see she was interested. Her hair was a curly mess, light brown and frizzy and her dress was low cut, short, tight and provocative. Her lips were painted a disturbing color of pink, but what the hell, he thought, I'm not interested in her lips.

He downed his drink and stumbled to his feet, but grabbed the bar as a searing pain in his side tore through him and sweat broke out on his forehead. He steadied himself as he wondered again if the quack doctor Camacho had taken him to had really removed the bullet or had just pretended to. The pain had been excruciating for over a week after he was shot, but now it was down to a dull throb most of the time, unless he moved too suddenly like just now. Then it would scream through his body and bring him to the edge of collapse. He was still weak and he was still pissed, which was why he was trying to drink himself into oblivion, and had been since Callen had reminded him of what he really was, a poor imitation of dear old dad. He laughed out loud at the thought and called for another drink. Nothing like a little whiskey to dull the pain, or a lot for that matter, and he grunted at the other trait he'd inherited from his father.

The woman made her move then, slinking toward him with a decidedly predatory look on her face. Why she would want to be with someone as blasted as he was he didn't know, but he looked forward to the distraction. Remembering what he had done to Kensi only made him incredibly sad and thinking about Callen made him just plain angry. Maybe a little nooky, as Sam once called it, would help him forget why he was here in Long Beach with a searing pain in his side, working undercover with a degenerate arms dealer who got his thrills from playing with little runaway girls. Remembering the last girl he'd seen Camacho with made him feel sick. She couldn't have been older than twelve and he had been invited to join the party but was able to beg off due to his gunshot wound. It was the only thing that made getting shot worthwhile.

"Hi, baby," the curly-headed woman whispered with her bright pink lips. "Want to have some fun?"

"What's your name, curly?" He slurred the words in her direction. He noticed she wasn't wearing a bra and her attributes were impressive.

"Wanda," she replied, and for some reason that struck Deeks as incredibly funny and he began to laugh. Wanda looked confused by his laughter and her brow furrowed as she looked up into his face.

"Well, Wanda baby, what did you have in mind?" Deeks decided it would have to be Max having fun with ol' curly-haired Wanda, because up close she was scary looking.

Ever since he had helped Kensi and Callen escape, he had been bouncing back and forth in his mind between himself and his alias. Some days he felt like Deeks and at other times he would just let Max take over. It scared him a little at how easy it was to let Max dominate and for some reason, he felt more comfortable as Max now than he did as Deeks. And as the days and nights passed, and he spent more time as Max, he wasn't all that anxious to return to being Deeks. Besides, he told himself, maybe he had always been Max and Deeks was an alias.

He shivered as that thought passed through his mind and images of his father hovered in the shadows. He wondered if his dad would have liked him as Max. He certainly had never taken a shine to Marty. Max wouldn't have put up with the beatings his dad rained down on him during much of his childhood. Max would have fought back. Maybe he became Max the day he shot his father. Maybe being Max all the time wasn't such a bad idea. Nobody would mess with him and he could have fun with women like pink-lipped Wanda. Max liked Wanda and he wanted to see what else was under that ugly, tight fitting dress.

Max staggered out of the bar with his hand firmly planted on Wanda's glorious butt and he was looking forward to being kissed by those incredibly bright pink lips. He hadn't had sex in three months, so he was feeling extremely horny and he was pretty sure Wanda would take care of that. She seemed happy, but what she didn't know was that Max Gentry was a mean drunk and when he lost control the nights didn't turn out to be quite so much fun. Deeks was gone now, completely overshadowed by his dark alter ego who was possessed by the bad-assed character of a father who knew how to hurt a woman and who enjoyed doing it. Max would enjoy the night, but Wanda wouldn't and she wasn't seen in that bar again for a long time.

...

"Max, get your head together," Camacho shook his shoulder as he was lying on the cot in a utility room of a deserted industrial building next to the Union Pacific rail yard in Long Beach. "Meet me upstairs in fifteen minutes or I'll have Sanchez kick your ass."

Deeks moaned as he tried to sit up. His head was pounding as he stumbled to the sink in the tiny bathroom and began searching for aspirin. When he looked in the mirror, he saw a head of hair that had a mind of its own, but what caught his attention was the bright pink lipstick smeared across the front of his shirt. His mind raced to remember the previous night, but it was a blank. When he found the aspirin, he noticed the bruises on his knuckles and splatters of blood on his sleeve and suddenly an image of a hysterical woman blotted out everything else and he sat down on the edge of the toilet and vomited onto the worn linoleum.

"Max, what did you do?" he whispered to himself as Sanchez appeared in the doorway.

"Have some fun last night, Max?" Sanchez laughed. "You better clean that up when the meeting's over, man. Camacho will be pissed if he sees it." Sanchez left him there and he stood up and stared at his face in the mirror, trying to decide who he was looking at, Max or Deeks.

Deeks' eyes suddenly watered as dark memories nearly sent him over the edge, and he grabbed the edge of the sink and held on as if his life depended on it. He remembered laughing at her name, but that was the innocent part. It was her crying screams he remembered now and he felt the self-hatred crash down on him and threaten to derail his mind. Max was responsible, he kept telling himself. It wasn't me, it wasn't Deeks.

"You fucking bastard!" he shouted at the image in the mirror and he knew it didn't matter which one had done it, because they were the same person and he wasn't sure he could live with that.

"You win, daddy, you win," he whispered. Then he washed his face and changed into the dark clothes of Max Gentry and walked slowly up the metal stairs to Camacho's office.

...

Hetty was having tea when her cell rang and she almost dropped her cup when she saw the ID of the caller. They hadn't heard from Deeks in the three weeks since he had helped Kensi and Callen escape. Kensi had been a basket case and Callen was just now starting to return to normal after suffering the skull fracture that had kept him in the hospital for two weeks. He wasn't a hundred percent, but his mind was finally sharp and Sam was starting to baby him less.

"Mr. Deeks, nice of you to call," Hetty's voice was strained and angry which she hoped he heard on his end. "We were hoping to hear from you earlier."

"I had nothing to say until now," Max said slowly as he heard the tension in Hetty's voice. "Camacho has been contacted by the terrorist group Sendero Luminoso. They are looking for military grade weapons, especially missiles and RDX explosives and they are coming to meet Camacho in three days."

"Shining Path, the group out of Peru. They haven't been making much noise lately. Do you know who Camacho's supplier is?" Hetty got Callen's attention quickly as she moved into the bullpen.

"Not yet, but I'll let you know as soon as I do." Max's voice sounded hollow and Hetty held her breath as he spoke.

"Mr. Deeks, are you okay?" Hetty saw the questioning looks of concern and hopefulness she was getting from the team and she wished she could see his eyes so she could see what the truth was behind the words.

"Still in some pain, but nothing I can't handle," Max's voice hardened and he sounded tired.

"Where are you, Mr. Deeks?"

"Long Beach," he said, "We're in a building by the rail yard. Tell Eric to get a fix off my cell phone."

"Could you manage to get away for a meeting?" Hetty asked quietly. "There are some people here who would like to see you in person." She smiled as she said the last part, looking at Kensi, and he must have sensed it on the other end.

"I'll think about it," he said coldly and Hetty was suddenly afraid for him.

"Mr. Deeks, it might do you some good to see a friendly face after all this time," she said, trying to encourage him.

"And who's face would that be?" His voice was full of bitterness and her fear grew.

"Mr. Deeks..."

But he didn't let her finish; cutting her off with words that haunted her and the team when they replayed the conversation up in Ops.

"My name is Max."

Then the line went dead.

...


	5. Chapter 5

**Discord: Chapter 5**

...

She wiped the quiet tears from her eyes and tried to remember their time in Santa Barbara. It hadn't been that long ago, but now the sweetness of that experience together seemed lost in the mist of time, like it had happened in another century or another world. The sound of his voice on the phone as he talked to Hetty was foreign to her and she knew the dominant persona of Max Gentry had almost obliterated the gentle, laid back personality of the funny, sexy man she loved and who had loved her so tenderly that short time ago in the beautiful green coastal hills above the ocean. And she was afraid that if she did get that man back, he would never quite be the same again.

"Kens?" Callen touched her lightly on the arm and she jumped, stepping away from him quickly.

"What do you want?" Her voice carried the same sharp, bitter tone she had used with him since they had escaped.

He had tried to talk to her over the past three weeks, to explain and to apologize, but she never let him get too far. She wasn't in a forgiving mood yet, no matter how many people told her she was being unreasonable.

"We need to convince him to let us meet with him in person," Callen said intensely.

"Which one? Deeks or Max?" Kensi lowered her voice as she asked the question they had all been wondering about.

"Both! Kensi, listen to what you're saying. We need to make him realize who he is again. He's been under too deep and too long, like before." Callen grabbed her arms and wanted to shake her out of her lethargy, but she pulled away with her eyes flashing.

"He wouldn't be like this if it wasn't for you!" She shouted and she couldn't stop, as all the fear and turmoil that had been building since the last time she saw Deeks, boiled over. "This is your fault Callen and I can't forgive you no matter how much you need it." Her voice fell to a hushed whisper at the end and then she realized everyone was staring in shocked silence at her outburst.

Callen looked stunned and then abruptly turned and walked out of the bullpen.

Sam looked at her with sad eyes as he shook his head. He knew Kensi had been going out of her mind with the waiting and hoping to hear from Deeks day after day, not knowing how badly he had been wounded or even if he was still alive. The tension had kept building the longer they went without news and he wasn't surprised it was Kensi who gave in to the stress first. But the discord on the team was hurting them all and it wasn't going to help bring back the real Marty Deeks, so he felt he was the only one dispassionate enough to work toward a solution.

"Hetty, I want to go talk to him, alone," Sam said to her softly as he entered her office.

"Do you think he'll listen if we can find a way to get to him?" Hetty asked.

"I don't know, but someone has to try, and it can't be Kensi and right now, it can't be Callen. They are both too close to it, too emotional." Sam looked determined and Hetty thought he might have a chance.

"But eventually, Callen is the one he has to make peace with or this team is finished, Sam," Hetty said calmly.

"I know and Callen knows, but right now we need to find out how stable he is." Sam said and Hetty knew he was right. "We still have to finish this op, and if he isn't able to do that, we need to know before we get into the middle of it."

"You're right Sam," Hetty nodded, glad that someone on the team was acting sensibly. "But first, you will need to see his complete file, especially his childhood history, so you know what and who you're dealing with. If Max Gentry is based on his father, you'll need to see his father's history as well. But, you can't let him know I showed it to you or his trust in me will be broken."

Sam found himself wondering if he would be able to get through to Deeks. They'd had their ups and downs because they were completely opposite personalities, but after working with him over the past year he had grown to care about him and respect his abilities, especially his work as an undercover agent. He was one of the few men he knew, other than Callen, who could immerse himself in an alias completely and go deep for extended periods of time. But now Sam wondered if Deeks had used his current alias one too many times. Sometimes they become too familiar and too easy to lose yourself in. You find yourself becoming an alias so thoroughly that you lose some of your natural inhibitions and you will do things that for you, aren't normal. He had seen Deeks lose himself once before and it had almost caused him to take his own life. Now, he was worried that he was in too deep again and they had to find a way to bring him back to himself. The last time, the team had been coherent and had been there for him, but this time the team was in turmoil and disarray, unable to present a united front to protect him, so Sam had to find a way to connect all of them again.

He took the thick file Hetty gave him and decided he should find someplace private to study it. They had no current cases so he headed for the boat shed, asking Eric to give him a heads up if someone was heading his way.

As he opened the file folder, he paused, knowing he was invading Deeks' privacy and not sure how that made him feel. He wouldn't want the others on the team to know all the intimate details of his life, so delving into Deeks' troubled childhood made him more than a little uneasy. They all had and kept their secrets, and he was pretty sure Deeks harbored plenty of them and he hoped Deeks never found out he had access to everything in his past. Sam wasn't even sure he wanted to know everything, but he needed to know enough to be able to discern which was Max and which was Deeks, and how his father played into what was going on in his head when Callen had told him he was no better than his father. There had to be an awful lot of power in that single comment to push Deeks so close to the edge.

He quickly glanced through the file, at first not sure where to begin. Then a report fell out with photos attached and his breath caught in his throat. It came from a hospital report on a battered child. That child was Marty and he had only been four years old at the time. Sam felt his whole body cringe when he looked at what Deeks' father had done to him. The bruises were dark and brutal and Sam felt nothing but cold anger as he stared at that scared little boy. His eyes were the same blue eyes he saw everyday at work, except the blues eyes of the child in the photo were so dull and listless and sad that it caused Sam to blink back tears.

The second photo was of Deek's mother. Sam was amazed at how much Deeks looked like her. She had been 22 when the photo was taken and she had the same unruly blond hair and blue eyes, but in the photo it was hard to tell since she had been beaten so badly one of her eyes was almost completely swollen shut. He checked the report and was stunned to see the beatings had taken place the same day and a doctor's note mentioned that the boy had told him he had tried to stop his dad from hitting his mom but he was too small. He was four. The file folder contained a catalogue of police reports about the abuse she suffered, but she had always refused to press charges. Even if she hadn't filed charges, Sam wondered how Deeks' father managed to stay out of jail.

He read through other reports from various hospitals at various times throughout Deeks' childhood, indicating broken arms and ribs, once a concussion when his father threw him against a wall when he was eight and the report when his father had broken Deeks' hand with a beer bottle when he was six. Sam knew these reports were just the times they needed to go to a hospital. Sam could only imagine how many other times Marty and his mother had been hit or beaten and never reported it or went for help. The further Sam delved into the file, the sadder he became, and he wondered how Deeks had survived and come out of his childhood with such a cheerful demeanor. Sam knew there were shadows and a depth of sorrow he never let the team see, but Deeks had somehow managed to overcome what he had suffered and Sam admired him for that.

There was a second folder inside that detailed the various hospital visits by Deeks' mom. He noticed how the visits dwindled over time and then finally stopped altogether. The last one was just after Deeks had shot his father and her stay lasted over two weeks. The report indicated that Deeks himself was in the hospital for a short time as well and they had done a psych evaluation. His deep anger at his father was noted and the constant fear he had lived with all those violent years had made the psychologist recommend follow up sessions, but Sam could find no record of any.

Finally, he found the file on Deeks' father, Gordon John Brandel, containing his mug shot when he had been booked for spousal and child abuse, after the attempted murder of his wife and son with a shotgun. Sam stared at it for a long time and couldn't find a thing in the man's face that looked anything like Deeks. There was a cruel hardness in his grayish eyes and his hair was sort of a dirty red-blond color, but nothing in his features reminded him of Deeks except maybe his nose. He had a history of run-ins with the law and had moved from job to job, fired multiple times for drinking on the job or altercations with other employees. He was a volatile man and Sam could see his personality in Max Gentry. He had been arrested several times for DUI and had been locked up briefly for tearing up a local bar, but he had never spent a day in jail for beating his wife and son. Sam had to believe that still bothered Deeks, and may have been one of the reasons he became a cop. They all knew how protective he was of the children they came in contact with on their assignments. He had almost sacrificed his career and his life trying to protect one young battered boy.

Sam just lightly skimmed through the rest of the information in Deeks' file, even though he was curious about his time as a lawyer and how he became a cop. The last piece of info was a copy of Gordon John Brandel's Death Certificate. Hetty had attached a note to it indicating the date she had informed Deeks of his father's death. It was the day Deeks had been shot at the convenience store. One of Hetty's handwritten notes indicated that Deeks had listed his father as one of the men who might have targeted him. Deeks had lived in fear of his father's vengeance all through the years and Sam wondered what Deeks had felt when Hetty told him his father was dead. He thought it might be why he had resisted Hetty's suggestion that he go undercover as Max Gentry. He was finally free of his father and his fear of him, only to be forced to take on that man's persona in the form of Max Gentry. He must have hated it. Sam wondered why Hetty had demanded that he go in as Max and he intended to ask her.

Deeks had been deathly afraid of his father as a child and now he had spent almost three months in an alias that was the embodiment of his father's personality. Every day of this assignment had to have been a battle for the survival of Deeks' very soul. He had fought and struggled his whole life to be his own man with his own sensibilities and personality and that was now threatened by his alias Max Gentry.

Sam was suddenly convinced Deeks never thought he could win that battle. That fear of his strong and brutal father still lived deep inside of him and when Callen had told him he was the same as his father he had believed him, because how could he be stronger than the bully he had grown up with and who had dominated and controlled him by force his whole childhood?

Deeks had to feel he couldn't win and Sam was afraid he had stopped fighting.

...


	6. Chapter 6

**Discord: Chapter 6**

...

Hetty had poured herself a cup of Jasmine Pearls tea, but she became so lost in thought that it was cold by the time she took her first sip.

"Oh, bugger," she grumbled to herself and she immediately poured out the remaining tea and started a fresh pot.

She had begun retracing her thought process about her demand that Deeks go undercover as Max Gentry. She wasn't one to second guess herself very often, but ever since Sam had returned Deeks' personnel file and had asked why she had wanted him to use Max Gentry as a alias, she had been going over everything about the operation and questioning her decision making.

"Hetty, can we talk?" Callen asked softly.

"Of course Mr. Callen, what's on your mind?" Hetty knew he was having trouble with some of his own decisions on this op, so she thought a conversation might help clear the air and help them repair some of the fractures between them.

"Sam told me you authorized him to try and make face to face contact with Deeks,"

She could see the internal struggle going on in his eyes. He was still troubled by his actions toward Deeks and she didn't think he had come to terms yet, with what he had said to him and why, just as she wasn't certain about her own attitude toward her new agent going into this operation.

"Sam thought he should be the one because he was the most dispassionate. Don't you agree Mr. Callen?"

"Hetty, I'm the one who screwed with his head, so I should be the one who goes. I need to make things right." His eyes were red-rimmed and intense and she could see his need to solve the problem he felt he had created.

"I screwed up too, Mr. Callen," Hetty confessed. "I was the one who forced him to go in as Max Gentry, when he didn't want to."

"Why did you want him to use that alias?" Callen asked curiously.

"I think because Max Gentry forces Deeks to be strong and forceful, and after what happened to him on Christmas, I thought he needed a familiar alias who was tough and who no one would mess with. Plus Camacho already knew Max Gentry and it made getting inside his organization easier." Hetty said, quietly putting into words her reasoning from three months ago.

"You were worried about him going into this op." Callen understood and he smiled. "He's a good undercover, Hetty. He would have been fine with whatever alias we would have come up with."

"You're right, Mr. Callen, but when we started this op I knew things about Camacho that none of you did." Hetty took a sip of tea and wondered again why she had such a protective attitude toward Deeks.

"Like what, Hetty?" Callen leaned in, curious as to why she hadn't told him more about the gang Deeks was infiltrating.

"I already revealed most of the information about Camacho at the first briefing," Hetty began. "But I held back on letting you and Deeks know just how vicious he really is. And to be honest, I'm not sure why."

"You didn't want it to cloud his actions or make him hesitant." Callen remarked shaking his head. "I'm surprised at you Hetty. Keeping information like that from Deeks and from me is not like you. Are you getting too fond of Mr. Deeks?" There was a hint of lightness to his question, but she knew he was seriously questioning her about her motives.

"I'm very fond of all of you Mr. Callen," Hetty smiled. "But I was, perhaps, overly protective of Mr. Deeks."

"You were trying to protect him from Camacho, when the real danger lay in his alias." Callen stared hard at her.

"Your instincts and Mr. Deeks instincts were correct," Hetty acknowledged. "You didn't like Max Gentry from the start and Deeks was leery of him for good reason. I should have listened to you, Mr. Callen. And I should have trusted Mr. Deeks instincts, but sometimes I can be quite stubborn, as I'm sure you are aware?"

"We can all be stubborn, Hetty." Callen's voice held a note of sadness and she leaned forward and put her hand over his and patted it gently.

"We are all too human, Mr. Callen, so we all make mistakes, whether we want to or not." Hetty leaned back and sipped her tea and Callen rubbed his hands over his face and hoped that Sam could help them both correct their mistakes before they lost Deeks to an alias none of them trusted anymore.

...

"Eric, let me know when he gets to the freeway," Sam said into his com link as he pulled his CHP cruiser into traffic, ready to stop Max Gentry and take him briefly into custody. Sam just hoped he wouldn't give him too much trouble. He'd hate to have to get physical with Deeks, but he would if pushed.

"Sam, he's coming up the on-ramp now."

"Thanks, Eric. Is everyone in Ops?"

"Ready and listening."

Max Gentry cruised up onto the 405 freeway and headed toward LA. He had no particular destination or errand, he just needed to be alone for a while, and driving the freeways was an isolating experience for him. It gave him time to work things out in his mind and he was trying to do that when he heard the siren and saw the flashing lights of a Highway Patrol car in his rearview mirror.

"Crap!" Max hit the steering wheel hard with his hand and pulled over onto the shoulder. "I do not need this shit today!" He could feel his nerves fray just a little more as he glanced quickly in his mirror as the CHP Officer approached and he tried to calm himself.

"License and registration, Deeks," Sam said sharply.

"Sam?" Deeks was shocked to see him standing there with a smile playing around his lips.

"I need to talk to you," Sam got serious then as Deeks handed him his license.

"Why, did something happen? Is Kensi okay?" Deeks felt his heart begin to pound as a sense of panic shot through him.

"Kensi's fine, Deeks. But she would be a lot better if you had checked in sooner." Sam's voice let Deeks know he was not pleased and Deeks got that familiar defensive feeling when Sam would get on his case about something.

"I had nothing to report, Sam," His voice slid ominously back into the voice of Max Gentry and Sam noticed as did everyone who was listening in at OSP.

"How about reporting that you were still alive?" Sam was trying to control himself, but he could feel his anger beginning to rise and he knew that it wouldn't benefit the conversation, so he tamped it down as best he could.

"We raided the warehouse to pull you out that night and found a dead body. We all thought it was you, Deeks. We were all scared it was you, especially Kensi." The last sentence was spoken so softly that it touched Deeks deeply and he felt a stirring of emotions that had been missing since he'd fought with Callen.

"I didn't know," he said quietly. "I passed out after I told Camacho that Lugo was a cop. When I came to I was in some back alley clinic in Long Beach."

"You should have checked in as soon as you could," Sam told him. "Kensi saw you'd been wounded and we were all worried about you."

"I doubt everyone was worried," he said darkly. "Callen probably could have cared less." Max peeked out at Sam and there was a sullen anger in his eyes.

"Callen had a fractured skull, Deeks. He didn't know what the hell was going on for a week after you got them out." Sam hoped he was getting through to Deeks, but he got the distinct impression there was a battle for control raging inside of him.

"He hit me, Sam. He hit me in the middle of an op and said things that messed with my mind." The anger still possessed him and he wouldn't let it go.

"He didn't know what he was doing Deeks. And he didn't know what he was saying." Sam put his hand on Deeks' arm and he felt him tense as he spoke the last sentence.

"Bullshit!" Max Gentry came roaring out and he slammed the car door into Sam, knocking him back into the lane of traffic. Then he was out of the car pulling Sam out of traffic and pushing him up against the side of the car, their faces inches apart.

"Bullshit, Sam! That's total bullshit!" The fury of his attack surprised Sam, but he quickly got the upper hand and forced Deeks' arm up behind his back and slammed him face down on the trunk of the car. He could feel Max surge with anger and the next voice he heard was definitely not Deeks.

"Let me go you son of a bitch!" Max screamed in a rage. "I'll kill you!"

Sam quickly handcuffed Max Gentry and struggled to put him in the patrol car, but it wasn't easy. Finally, Sam punched him in the side and saw the color drain from his face as he instantly dropped to his knees. Sam didn't think he had hit him that hard, but he was able to finally get him into the back of the patrol car. As he got behind the wheel Sam looked at Deeks in the rearview mirror and saw a sheen of sweat on his face as his breathing started coming in gasps.

"Deeks, are you okay?"

A dark look greeted him just before Deeks slumped into unconsciousness.

...

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Deeks?"

"What happened? Where am I?" Deeks struggled to sit up, but grabbed his side as a sickening pain radiated through his abdomen and he gasped and fell back on the gurney.

"You're in the ER. You passed out in my patrol car and I couldn't wake you so I brought you here." Sam noticed how gray his complexion was and how tired he looked.

"I lost it didn't I?" Deeks said contritely. His voice was weak and distant, but it was Deeks who was talking, not Max.

"Yeah, Deeks. I almost got hit by a Mini-Cooper because of you." Sam smiled as he saw a lopsided grin appear briefly.

"I don't think the Mini-Cooper would have survived Sam." Deeks stretched out on the gurney and sighed as Sam laughed.

"Sam, I don't think I can fight him anymore."

"Who, Deeks?"

"Max Gentry," Deeks looked at him then, and he could see a shadow of fear looming behind his eyes.

"Yes, you can, Deeks," Sam grasped his hand tightly and squeezed. "You are not your father Deeks."

"I'm not so sure, Sam," Deeks eyes became hooded and he covered them with his arm, hiding his face from Sam's searching eyes. "Maybe Callen was right, maybe I am no better than my dad. I've always tried to be. I always tried to find out who I really was, but it's never been this hard.

"I saw some photos of what your dad did to you and your mom," Sam knew he was taking a chance telling him that, but he felt he had to.

Deeks' arm quickly dropped back to his side as he stared wide-eyed at Sam with pale, unreadable blue eyes.

"You would never do that to woman, and you would definitely never do it to a child." Sam placed his hand on Deeks' arm as he spoke and he could feel him trembling.

"You're wrong Sam." Deeks said with certainty and anguish followed in a slow whisper. "I beat up a woman two nights ago after getting drunk and picking her up in a bar. Was it good ol' Max Gentry or just me, my father's son, just like Callen said? Maybe I am more Max then any of you think. Maybe more than I know or care to admit. I do know I'm tired of fighting him, because I'll lose anyway. My dad always wanted me to be tougher than I was. I think that's why he beat the shit out of me all the time, because I needed it."

Sam could see the torment in his eyes and he reached out and gripped his shoulder.

"You can't stop fighting for yourself Deeks," Sam pleaded with him. "And you've always been tough."

Deeks shook his head sadly at that and turned his face to the wall.

"I saw a picture of you taken at a hospital after your father beat you senseless." Sam felt tears in his eyes as that image floated in his head. "A doctor had attached a note to the file, Deeks. He reported that you told him you had tried to stop your dad from beating your mom, but you told him you were too small. Deeks, you were four. You've been fighting your father since you were four years old. Don't stop now, Deeks, please. You owe that to yourself. You owe it to that little four-year-old boy. That's the real Marty Deeks!"

...


	7. Chapter 7

**Discord: Chapter 7**

...

"Officer Hannah?" The ER doctor fought his way through the busy waiting room looking for Sam.

"Yeah, Doc. How is he?" Sam had spent an hour waiting for news about what had caused Deeks to pass out and he was happy to finally have something to report back to the concerned team back at OSP.

"He's gone," the doctor said.

"What?" Sam was instantly confused. "You mean he died?"

"No, no, I'm sorry, I mean he left the hospital," the doctor said quickly.

"When? How did he get by me?" Sam was furious.

"He just walked away and nobody saw him leave." The doctor was holding an iPad in his hand and as Sam started to leave, he stopped him. "He needs to get back in here. Let me show you the X-Rays we took." The doctor flipped open the tablet and a series of images appeared.

"What am I looking at Doc?" Sam asked.

"We took these of Mr. Deeks' abdomen right after you brought him in. There's a bullet fragment in his lower intestine that needs to come out as soon as possible." The doctor was frowning as he spoke and Sam knew this was serious. "I'm worried he's bleeding internally and that fragment could cause an infection."

"Doc, he was shot over three weeks ago," Sam couldn't keep the worry out of his voice, and the doctor noticed.

"You're more then just the officer that brought him in here, aren't you?" The doctor looked curiously at Sam.

"He's a cop and a friend," Sam was itching to go and find Deeks so he could break his neck for leaving. "Doc, does he know about the bullet fragment?"

"I talked to him a half hour ago," the doctor answered, "If you're his friend, you need to get him back here for surgery. I'm amazed he's still able to function."

"Don't worry, I'll find him and if I don't kill him first, I'll make sure he gets his ass back here." Sam was so angry he was having trouble standing still. As soon as the doctor turned to go, Sam was on the phone to OSP.

"Callen, we've got a problem," Sam said angrily.

"Just one?" Callen replied, but he heard the anger and wondered what new problem he had to deal with.

"Deeks took off," Sam reported and then told him what the doctor had said.

"This just gets better and better," Callen was exasperated. "Sam, if I ever get my hands on him I'm gonna throttle him."

"Get in line, G." Sam climbed into the cruiser and sighed deeply. "He knows about the fragment he's carrying around, and yet he left. I don't know what's going on in that brain of his, Callen."

"I'll have Eric track his cell phone," Callen told him. "Come on back, Sam."

"G, he thinks he's fighting a losing battle against Max," Sam sounded depressed and it worried Callen. "I tried to convince him to keep fighting, but now I'm not sure I got through to him."

"You tried, Sam," Callen said sadly.

"He told me he beat up a woman, G." Sam told him quietly and he could hear the sharp intake of breath from his partner. "That's why he thinks he's becoming more like Max, more like his father. G, we have to bring him home and soon or we'll lose him for sure."

"I know, Sam, I know."

...

After the cab dropped Deeks off at his car, he climbed gingerly into the backseat and collapsed. He dry swallowed a couple of the pain pills the doctor had given him and waited for the searing pain to taper off. I knew that quack Camacho had taken me to was a drunk, he thought and closed his eyes at the memory of waking up in a dark room to a smiling old man who smelled of whiskey. He was in more pain after that quack doctor had taken the bullet out then when he'd been shot.

As he lay there, his mind drifted back over some of Sam's comments. That Sam had tracked him down just to talk to him had touched him and surprised him. He thought Sam would agree with Callen's assessment of him, so he had been caught off-guard by Sam's encouragement. He wondered how he had happened to see pictures of him as a child, but then he realized that Sam hadn't done this on his own. Hetty had shared his history with Sam and he felt angry about that. He valued his privacy and had never intended for his colleagues to know the full extent of the terror he had lived through as a child. He had shared a few incidents, but seeing specifics from hospital visits and photos of those beatings was a little too close and he didn't like it. He was surprised that Hetty would do such a thing. It wasn't like her. He wondered if she was worried about him. He had always felt a special bond with her, but now he wasn't sure he could trust her and that bothered him more than he thought it would.

The pain meds finally started to work and his mind wandered into his past. His memory filled with images and sounds of a night shadowed in fear and pain, of hearing the screams of his mom and the angry shouts of his dad as they fought in the small kitchen of the first house he could remember. It played out in his mind like an old movie. Waking up in the dark when he heard his mom scream and cry out, he had tiptoed to the door of his room and looked out into the kitchen. His mom was on her back on the floor and his dad was kicking her. He remembered the coldness of the linoleum on his bare feet as he gripped the side of the doorway and stared in stunned silence at the scene playing out before him. The sounds of his mother crying like that were the first ones he could remember, and although they became common as he grew up, those first sounds were the ones that always came back to him in nightmares.

When his dad had picked up a kitchen chair and threatened to crash it down on her, that's when he had been shocked into action. He remembered the sudden jolt of fear as he saw his dad raise the chair and he knew he had to stop what was about to happen. It was the first time he had ever been really mad in his life and the emotion had surprised him. He had instantly and decisively charged his father, his small body ramming into the back of his dad's knee and his small fists beating against his leg. He remembered yelling for his dad to stop and was shocked when he did. His dad had stopped and looked down at his young son and then laughed hysterically. Then he had picked him up by his small shoulders and slammed him against the stove. He had ended up sitting in shock on the floor staring up into the enraged face of his father and he had felt a deep fear that never left him as a child and that still lingered always in the dark shadows of his mind. The memory always ended there with him sitting on the floor, but he knew from reading his own files that the beating hadn't ended there. He was four years old and that night was the beginning of his terrifying childhood.

The memory faded and Deeks wiped tears from his face as he sat up and rested his head in his hands. Sam had been right, he had been fighting this battle for a long time. The battle for self, the battle for the right to live without fear, the battle for a life of happiness. He hadn't known any of that as a four year old, but he had known what his dad was doing was wrong and he had tried to stop it.

Maybe it really was just that simple. To do what was right and good in the world, to stop the bad guys from hurting the innocent. That's why he became a cop and it was why he now had to stop a group of terrorists from harming innocent people he didn't even know and if he needed to use Max Gentry to do that he would, but on his terms. On four-year-old Marty Deeks' terms. He was the strong one. He was the one who had battled the biggest foe in his life and had made him stop what he was doing.

Deeks thought he should try and be that brave again, to have the spirit of his four-year-old self. He had to battle the darker elements that came from his father and this time he had to win, because he didn't want his father's life he wanted his own and he wouldn't let Max Gentry stand in his way.

...

When he walked into OSP, Nell was going over some intel on the screen in the bullpen, so everyone's back was to him. Nell paused in mid sentence and her mouth hung open as her eyes widened.

"Deeks!"

They all turned in unison and their expressions varied, but Kensi rushed him and hugged him and the look of quiet joy on her face and the brimming tears in her eyes made it possible for him to face the others. He pulled himself slowly out of her arms and stood facing the team and he shyly hung his head briefly before walking over to Sam.

"Thanks, Sam," he said softly. "You made me see things that I hadn't thought about in a very long time, and I'm determined to fight for myself now."

"Why did you run out on me at the hospital?" Sam was still furious at him.

"I'm sorry Sam, I just had to process the things you said to me by myself," Deeks looked sheepishly at him and Sam saw only the old Deeks looking back at him and he sighed, shook his head and smiled.

"I'm still gonna kill you when this op is over." Sam pulled Deeks into such a tight hug he couldn't breathe and had to struggle to escape.

"Mr. Deeks," Hetty spoke from behind him and he turned to face the person he wasn't sure he trusted as much as he used to.

"Hello Hetty." He was hesitant to look at her, because he wasn't sure what she thought of him anymore. "I'm here because I thought we should talk about the upcoming meeting between Camacho and the Shining Path terrorists."

"You do, do you?" Hetty's face had always been hard to read, but today, it was inscrutable. "Shouldn't you be in the hospital instead, Mr. Deeks?"

"I'm okay for now," Deeks stood up tall then and a firm look settled on his face. "The meeting is scheduled for the day after tomorrow, so I should know who Camacho's supplier is and where they're getting the weapons from either today or tomorrow. I can stand the pain until then."

"Well, you'll have to clear your further participation with Mr. Callen," Hetty said as she nodded toward the senior agent and then turned toward her office. She paused and looked back at Deeks.

"It's good to have you back, Mr. Deeks," she said with a small smile and then walked away.

Deeks felt some of the tension leave his body when she smiled at him and then he turned to face Callen. The others slowly found other places to be, including Kensi, but Deeks saw the dark, piercing look she shot at Callen before squeezing his hand and following Nell up to ops.

"G, you want me to stay?" Sam asked with a knowing look on his face.

"No Sam, this is between me and Deeks."

"Play nice you two," Sam shook his finger at both of them and they both shook their heads and offered him a brief smile. But when he left, a sense of awkwardness settled over the two men and neither one knew where to start.

"You okay?" Callen asked.

"Fine," Deeks answered. "You? Sam said you suffered a skull fracture when you and Kensi were taken."

"Yeah. I wasn't in control there for a while," Callen answered. His voice was quiet and Deeks was surprised by the confession.

"I'm not sure I was either," Deeks said. "Callen, you were right. I didn't have to hit Kensi. I was wrong."

He looked down at the floor as he stuffed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Remembering the feeling of power he'd experienced after slapping her caused his whole body to shudder and Callen could see the anguish and inner turmoil on his face.

"I didn't have to hit you either, Deeks," Callen said slowly, and his eyes reddened as he fought his emotions. "I wasn't thinking straight, and when you told me I screwed up and got Kensi and me captured, I couldn't deal with the truth, so I hit you."

"I tried to hit you first," Deeks said with a small, brief grin.

"Deeks?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not like your father."

The statement hung in the air between them and Deeks wouldn't look at him as he battled to control some of the anger and resentment that still simmered inside of him.

"Max Gentry is."

"Can you control him?" Callen asked and Deeks looked up quickly at him and Callen saw a stormy look in his eyes.

"Are you asking if I can control the Max Gentry part of myself?" Deeks sat back on his desk and stared at Callen. "Cause he is a part of me, not just an alias."

"I know. I think I've known that since I first met Max." Callen replied as he searched Deeks' face before going on. "Sam told me about the woman in the bar."

Deeks stumbled to his feet and thought he was going to be sick as he grabbed the edge of his desk. Callen reached out to steady him and felt a tremor run through his body and he saw tears brimming in his eyes.

"I'll never be able to forgive myself for that Callen," Deeks voice was choked with regret as he struggled with overwhelming guilt.

"We've all done things while undercover that we can't forgive ourselves for, Deeks. It comes with the job." Callen gripped his shoulder and pulled him around to face him.

"I wish I could blame it on Max, Callen, but I'm not sure I can," Deeks still wouldn't look at him, but Callen saw his face finally harden with resolve.

"Will you let me finish this op, Callen? I need to have something good come out of this assignment," Deeks said as he finally let his eyes find Callen's face.

"There was never any doubt about that, Deeks," Callen told him softly. "I just had to know who I was dealing with before we got into the middle of it."

"You're dealing with both of us," Deeks said with a clear mind. "But, I'm in control, now."

...


	8. Chapter 8

**Discord: Chapter 8**

...

Kensi watched silently as Callen talked to Deeks. She knew her partner well and she could see that his defensive mechanisms were in play from where she stood on the balcony outside of Ops. He was hesitant and she could tell he was troubled by something by the way he kept raking his hands through his hair. He was trying to control his emotions and she wished she could hold his hand and calm him.

She could feel the tension humming in her body as she held herself in check and observed the interaction between them, waiting impatiently for her chance to be alone with Deeks. She wanted desperately to touch him and simply hold him tight against her, feeling his beating heart against hers, to know he was finally safe. She wanted to comfort him and she wanted him to comfort her. She needed him to know how devastated she was when she thought he was gone from her life forever; to know the hollowness she had felt when she saw that body in the empty warehouse. She didn't care what he had done, he was here now, and she needed him more than she thought was possible.

Callen finally walked away leaving Deeks standing alone and she slowly made her way down the stairs wondering how their conversation had gone. Her anger at Callen had not abated and she wasn't sure their relationship could be repaired, but she knew she wouldn't tell that to Deeks until the operation was over.

"Marty?"

"Hey, Kens," He took a step back from her and that puzzled her. She saw the barriers go up behind his eyes and she thought her heart would break right then, but she kept walking toward him.

"Marty, please, I need you." Kensi's voice cracked as he put his hand up to stop her advance.

"Don't, Kens. I can't...not now," he said as tears glistened in his eyes. "I don't trust myself right now, so please just let me be."

"Is this about you slapping me in the warehouse?" She felt a spark of anger as she paused and waited for his reply. She was stunned by what he had said. It made no sense to her.

He walked over and sat on the couch, rubbing his arms absently as if he had a chill. She followed and stood leaning against one of the columns.

"I'm not letting you do this," Her voice was firm and he looked warily at her.

"Do what?" His eyes had turned dark and stormy and there was no joy there at seeing her.

"Pull away from me." Her eyes flashed as she spoke and his eyes lightened in response.

"Kens, I hit you."

She read the anguish and uncertainty in his eyes.

"So what? I hit you all the time," she said and let a small smile play across her face.

"Not like that, Kensi," he said, and his head tilted as he tried to get her to see it from his point of view.

"Marty, it's forgotten. Do you understand what I'm saying? I don't hold it against you." She was pleading with him now, her voice reaching out to him.

But he wouldn't look at her; instead he stared at the floor, his eyes vacant as his mind returned to that first moment he saw her tied up in that warehouse next to Callen. His heart had frozen when Lugo had told him they had captured two Federal agents and that one was "a hot looking woman", as Lugo had put it. When he saw Lugo putting his hands on her, he wanted to beat the man within an inch of his life, but first he had to make sure she was okay and that no one would touch her. He had been with Camacho and his men for two months and he knew what they did to little girls, so he had to find a way to protect Kensi from what he knew they would surely do to her.

It was Max Gentry who put his hands on her, he had told himself at the time, not Deeks, not me. But now he knew there was no difference, and he could no longer justify what he had done to her and how it had made him feel. He had felt his father crawling around inside him as he had roughly abused Kensi and the sensation of power had almost overwhelmed him and had encouraged him to do worse. He had fought the urge, but he had felt it there and he wasn't sure what would have happened if he had given in to it. He had stopped that dark impulse by hitting her, opening his fist at the last minute when he saw the look on her face, knowing what he was going to do.

"Marty, I knew you were just trying to protect me, and you did," she said softly as she sat down next to him and took one of his hands and held it gently in her lap. She saw a deep sadness in his eyes and he looked so exhausted that she longed to pull him to her and cradle him and tell him everything was going to be all right. But she also saw stubbornness there as he clung to his guilt and she knew she had to wait until he could get past it.

He looked at her so seriously then that she felt her heart in her throat.

"Kensi, I enjoyed roughing you up. I felt powerful when I hit you," he whispered and silent tears slipped down his face and he pulled his hand away from her like he didn't deserve to be touched.

His confession almost broke her, but she steeled herself to resist the temptation to be angry with him. She sat very still, letting his words sink in as he watched her. She knew their whole future together was on the line and she barely breathed as she tried to process what he had told her.

"God, Kens. I'm so sorry. I'll understand if you can't stand to be with me anymore." He closed his eyes as he spoke those haunting, devastating words.

"You think I'm going to let you go that easily?" She felt her anger with him slowly building as he tried to distance himself from her.

"I'm not worth fighting for Kens." He let out a shaky breath and sighed deeply, staring down at his hands, which were lying open in his lap.

"You just told Sam you were willing to fight for yourself now," she said with confusion.

"I'm fighting Max Gentry. I'm fighting that part of my father that's inside me," he acknowledged.

"So, you don't want me to fight for you too? For us?" Her eyes grew dark as she searched his face for an answer. "You want me to leave you because of that one slap?"

He looked up at her, his eyes filled with an anger so deep she was stunned.

"It starts with one slap, Kensi. I watched my mom take abuse my whole childhood." His voice was raw and his face darkened with barely suppressed rage. "She didn't fight back, she didn't leave, she just took it day after day after day and it nearly killed her and me. Do you think I can stand the idea of you being like that if you stay with me?"

"What makes you think I won't fight back?" Kensi said strongly and then grabbed his hand and held it tightly to her chest as her voice softened.

"Marty, I'm not your mother and you're not your father. We're us and we're strong together. I won't let you fight this battle alone."

"Kens, please, just let me go." His face was a mask of anguish, but she wouldn't relent.

"No Marty! You let go. Let go of the past, of your parents, of Max Gentry, and be the man I fell in love with. You haven't seen him in a while, but he's in there." She reached out her hand and gently touched his chest and moved toward him as he stared at her.

"Marty, remember our times together, not the past, not other people, just remember us." She was sitting close to him now, and her hand moved to his cheek and he laid his head there and closed his eyes. She pulled his head onto her shoulder and she felt him shiver and catch his breath as she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him to her. His arms slowly encircled her and she could feel how tentative his hands were as he stroked her back.

"God, Kensi, I've missed you." His breath was soft against her throat and she stroked the scruff on his face and kissed him softly on the forehead.

"Remember we're strong together, Marty. We're partners. We have each other's back." She leaned back on the couch and pulled him with her and she could feel the tension in his body slowly drain away as he clung to her.

He couldn't believe she intended to stay with him, to fight for him and help him overcome his past and the danger that he knew lurked in the black shadows of his personality. He wanted to hold her like this forever, but he knew she didn't know the whole story. He wasn't ready to tell her about the woman with the bright pink lips; an innocent woman he had beaten for no reason other than he could and because it made him feel powerful.

After this op was over and he had burned Max Gentry's clothes, he would sit down with her and tell her what he had done. And he knew she would never look at him the same way again, just like he didn't see himself the same way as he had before. He knew when he finished that story, she would leave him and he would go back to being the solitary man he had always been because of that darkness of soul he had inherited from his father.

He pulled back from her and stood up, telling her he had to go back, back to being Max Gentry, an alias he hated, but a part of himself he couldn't seem to shake. He held her hand and tried to draw as much strength from her as he could. He knew he would need it over the next two days. It seemed easier to face Camacho and dangerous terrorists than it did to face his childhood demons. That fight was ongoing and would never be over. Two days were nothing compared to a lifetime battle of wills. And he still didn't know who would win, Max or Deeks. Maybe if Kensi stayed with him, Deeks might just have a chance, but alone, he wasn't so sure.

She watched him go, and her heart went with him. She had always thought he knew her well, but now she knew that wasn't true. He didn't know just how strong she was and how hard she would fight to hold on to the person she loved. She had lost her father, and it had nearly crushed her, but she had fought her way back to become a stronger person. Now she knew she had a fight on her hands to keep the man she loved from losing himself and he had no idea the strength she would bring to the battle. He didn't know how tough she really was, how determined to win, no matter what the cost. But he would find out. She would show him and he would learn not to underestimate her.

...


	9. Chapter 9

**Discord: Chapter 9**

...

A fog of melancholy enveloped him as he walked along the wall of one of the dreary industrial buildings on the west side of the Union Pacific rail yards. The gray concrete was covered in a series of faded patches of graffiti that looked to have been painted by one dogged tagger with limited skills. This area of the yards hadn't attracted any other street artists that he could tell, just this one guy who had a thing for orange and black and big puffy letters. He crossed a line of track and walked slowly along a neglected string of boxcars on a nearby siding that was growing dark and foreboding in the fading light. He pushed his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans as a gust of dirty wind swirled past him, picking up pieces of grungy trash as it moved along.

This part of the rail yard was rather desolate, filled with weeds that had sprouted long ago between the railroad ties, the ground sprinkled with broken glass and marked by discarded bottles and disintegrating food wrappers lying scattered along the gravel beds between the rusting rails. He coughed as the smell of used oil and creosote filled his nose. He waited outside the door to the building Camacho had taken over, steeling himself as he let Max Gentry crawl back inside his mind. Two more days, he told himself. Only two more days and then he could try and bury his persistent alter ego as deep as possible. He looked despondently out across the bleak landscape of boxcars and listened to the lonely sounds of moving trains as they coupled or screeched along the steel rails. Time to finish this now, he thought, and he opened the door and walked back into the life of Max Gentry.

"Where you been, Max?" Camacho shouted down from the steel catwalk high above the floor. He motioned for Deeks to come up as he turned abruptly and walked back toward his office.

By the time Deeks joined him, his eyes was dark and Deeks knew that meant danger. Camacho wasn't a big man, but he was solid and strong and one of the meanest men he had ever come across. There was a coldness about him and Deeks was convinced he was a sociopath and a very intelligent one. He had been procuring weapons for gangs around LA for over ten years and Max had met him through Ray Martindale, his childhood friend. Ray had warned him not to cross Camacho, but he never told him why. Deeks wasn't sure he wanted to know and Hetty had only hinted at sinister things in the man's past. Sometimes if you knew too much it could hamstring your actions and responses. Deeks had seen how he treated the young runaway girls he brought in occasionally, and it had made him sick to his stomach.

"Where'd you go today, Max?" His voice was deep with suspicion and his tone threatening.

Sometimes the truth was the easiest answer when you were in a bind, so that's what he told Camacho. At least, some of the truth.

"I was pulled over by the Highway Patrol." Max leaned forward and looked a little embarrassed. "Me and the officer got into it and he pulled me out of the car and cuffed me. Then he beat the shit out of me and I passed out. He must have panicked, cause I ended up in the emergency room. The doctor took X-Rays and discovered I have a bullet fragment in my gut. I got out of there as soon as I could. Sorry if I messed things up."

"The bullet you took three weeks ago?" Camacho looked surprised.

"You need to find a better source for medical care, Camacho," Max leaned back and grimaced as a hot slice of pain ran sharply down his side.

"You're alive aren't you?" Camacho growled. "You gonna be able to handle the next couple of days?" Not looking especially concerned with Max's health.

"I'm fine. What's happening?" Max asked.

"My source for the weapons will be here within the hour, so you stick close, you hear?" Camacho walked around the desk and stared coldly down at Max with a quizzical look on his face.

"No problem, boss," Max said as he leaned back in the chair and stared at Camacho with a veiled challenge in his eyes. It was never a good idea to look weak in front of a guy like Camacho, and he needed to regain his standing as a tough guy with him. Camacho liked him because he could be brutal with the men and keep them in line. If he lost that edge, Camacho would get rid of him in a second and not lose a wink of sleep over how he did it. Max knew he would probably enjoy the diversion.

"I'll have Sanchez find you when the guy gets here." Camacho walked to another desk and was rifling through some papers as Max stood to go.

Eric had provided him with a few audio and video bugs and Max was able to place one of each before leaving the room. He got the familiar feeling of calm as he placed the bugs and was surprised how the feeling of connection flooded through him. He wasn't alone anymore and he hadn't had that feeling since he'd helped Callen and Kensi escape. But now that feeling of being watched over was strong again and he felt comforted by it. He caught himself almost smiling as he walked out of the room.

...

"Have we met before?" Charley Hansen asked as he shook hands with Max Gentry.

"Don't think so," Max answered calmly, shaking his head. Although outwardly in control, his mind began to race as he tried to recall having met Hansen at any time in his past. He felt a small thread of fear, but he couldn't place the guy.

Charley Hansen could have been a poster boy for the Marine Corp. He was tall, tan and handsome. His buzz cut accentuated the strong line of his jaw and his eyes were steady and dark. The sleeves of the tight shirt he was wearing were rolled to the elbows and Max could see the power of his muscles ripple as he shook hands. He stood ramrod straight and looked ready to do battle at a moments notice and Max wondered how someone who looked so perfect, would willingly put weapons in the hands of terrorists just to make a buck.

"I'm pretty good at remembering faces," Hansen said as he stared at Max. He wouldn't let it go and that worried Max.

"So am I, and I think I would have remembered you." Max let his eyes go dark and menacing as he spoke.

"You surf?" Hansen persisted.

"Do I look like a surfer to you?" Max glared at the man, but the sliver of fear widened with the question. If he got made because he surfed, he would never hear the end of it, if he lived to tell anyone. Then he remembered the bugs he'd placed, and knew those watching in Ops already knew. Again he felt that connection and the sense of calm that came with the knowledge that there were people watching his back.

"No, you really don't look like a surfer," Hansen laughed and turned as Camacho came into the room.

"You ready to make a deal, Hansen?" Camacho wasn't big on small talk and he seemed to be in a hurry tonight.

"Yeah, let's talk money," Hansen's manner changed in an instant. Max saw a predator behind the perfect facade, and a greedy narcissism that left no room for anyone or anything, especially a conscience.

"Not so fast, jarhead," Camacho didn't like to be rushed and Max could tell he didn't really like this guy or trust him. "Who's in this with you?"

"Why do you need to know that?" Hansen asked and became tense and suspicious.

"Because I like to know all the players going in, so somebody don't pop up later saying they got a raw deal." Camacho cut the space between them as he spoke and Max felt the air in the room crackle with intensity. He was smiling internally, though, because his boss was looking for the same information he was.

The standoff was brief, and it was Hansen who backed down. Not many men could stand up to Camacho, not even a well-trained Marine with a super ego. Maybe Hansen recognized a superior predator, Max thought. They were both alike in some ways, but Camacho was older and had been intimidating people longer. He had taken out tougher guys then this smart ass, Max laughed to himself.

Hansen named four other Marines who were involved in the theft of all the weapons and explosives Camacho needed to make a deal with the terrorists of Shining Path. And Max felt himself relax slightly, knowing that OSP would have a tail on them before the night was out. As soon as the men made the delivery, they would be in custody before "poster boy" knew what hit him, and that made Max smile. He only wished he could be there to see the look on Hansen's face when he was taken down. Max didn't like the guy and he was still concerned with his questions about surfing. Hopefully, he would be in the brig before he remembered where he had seen Max Gentry before.

...

Max couldn't sleep. He felt different and he couldn't put his finger on the reason. He wasn't afraid of anybody, so he doubted it was Charley Hansen's questions about surfing that was bothering him. And the meds he had taken were keeping the pain in his gut to a bearable level. He didn't feel comfortable in his own skin tonight as he tossed around on his small bed. Maybe it was just too warm in the stifling little concrete room he had appropriated as his own, so he got up and took off his t-shirt and walked bare-chested out into the wide hallway, his feet welcoming the coolness of the concrete floor. He opened the door that led outside and stood breathing deeply in the pallid moonlight as the sweat slowly dried on his body. He found himself longing to surf and for the feel of the cold ocean sliding down his body as he rushed to catch a wave. He yearned to feel the power of a wave as it lifted him and carried him toward shore, the wind tangling his hair as he laughed from the sheer joy of the experience. This isn't me, Max thought, this is Deeks.

Deeks felt his chest constrict as he realized he was fully in control, that Max was inexplicably gone, at least for the moment. He gasped and grabbed the side of the door, trying to steady himself from the shock that electrified his mind. He slowed his breathing and eventually began to feel the calmness he experienced when he'd placed the bugs in Camacho's office. He felt connected again to the group of people he had once thought of as family and he became sad as he thought about all the discord that threatened to break them apart and he knew he didn't want that.

His mind reached out to explore the past few weeks and months, afraid to let it travel back too far, afraid of the pain he knew was there if he thought too much about his time with Kensi. He knew that their relationship would not survive Max Gentry after this op was over. Even if he were to get control over that part of himself, the fear that Max would return unbidden was too much to risk. He loved her too much to let that happen.

He recalled how surprised he'd been when he saw Sam standing next to his car on the freeway. It had moved him that they were reaching out to him, that they weren't letting him go, even though none of them liked Max, they were fighting to get Deeks back. No one had ever wanted him before, not even his own parents. Yet here was a group of people who wouldn't let him walk away. Maybe it's what real families do; he didn't know because he had no experience to compare it to. They were treating him as if he was a part of their team, their family, and as much as he couldn't understand how that could be, he craved it, and he didn't want to lose that feeling of being a part of something greater than himself.

Whether he called it a family or a team, it was real, and it was all he had or could hope for and it was all he wanted or needed.

...


	10. Chapter 10

**Discord: Chapter 10**

...

"Sit down, Ms. Blye," Hetty said succinctly, watching the wary look that passed between Kensi and Callen as she handed them each a cup of Lemon Balm tea. She hoped its calming effect would help to tone down some of the animosity between them. She was tired of all the sharp looks and barbed comments. It wasn't good for the office environment and it certainly wasn't good for the team. The team's cohesiveness had been shattered by the events of the past month and she needed to make sure they all got back on the same page before the op went critical.

"You two need to talk," Hetty said softly after watching them drink their tea.

"I have nothing to say to him," Kensi replied and sat back in her chair and crossed her arms in front of her.

Callen leaned forward and put down his tea and then turned toward her with intensity flashing in his eyes. She wouldn't look at him and Hetty began to worry that this forced confrontation wasn't going to work. Then she saw Callen drop his gaze and his face softened.

"Kens, we've been friends for a long time," he said quietly. "I know you. You're stubborn and loyal and sometimes that's not a good combination."

Kensi's eyes flashed ominously, but he held his hand up and she kept silent.

"I know how much you love him, Kens," Callen continued softly. "And I know you are just being loyal to him as a partner, but you are so stubborn in that loyalty that you are blocking everyone else out, especially me. I know what I did in that warehouse was wrong, Kens, and I'm sorry. I told Deeks that and he accepted it, but he's in trouble, Kens, and I think you know that."

He saw her blink back tears at his last comment and he saw the fear in her eyes.

"He scared you too, didn't he?" Callen asked softly.

"He doesn't think he's worth fighting for, Callen," She answered him as her hands began to shake. She hadn't realized how tightly she had been holding herself until now and she couldn't stop her hands from trembling.

Callen reached over and laid his hand over hers and waited until she got herself under control and she smiled briefly at him as tears shimmered in her eyes.

"He tried to push me away." Her voice was just a whisper as she told them of her conversation with Deeks. "I tried to make him see that I wasn't going to let him fight this battle by himself, but I'm not sure he believed me."

"He's been on his own for a long time," Hetty interjected. "He has no frame of reference for seeking help to fight his personal battles. No one has ever been there for him before."

"Sam told me Deeks thinks he's fighting a losing battle against the influence of Max Gentry and his father," Callen shook his head as he spoke and they all sat in silence as that knowledge sunk in.

"We have to make him realize that we are willing to stand by him; that we're not going to desert him when he needs us the most!" Kensi said stubbornly and Callen smiled at her determination.

"I think he wants to believe that." Callen said. "Now we have to show him that it's true."

"But we have to do it together," Hetty said forcefully. "When I left and went to Prague, I intended to do it alone. I never expected you all to come after me, but I did hope you would. And when I found out you were all there, I cannot tell you the emotional strength that gave me. Knowing all of you came together, as a team...well, it touched me very deeply. And it will touch Mr. Deeks and give him the strength he needs right now."

"He knows we'll come for him," Sam said as he came and stood behind them. "He knows he's not alone anymore."

"Kens, are we good?" Callen asked as he got up and looked over at her.

"Yeah, we're good," Kensi nodded and managed a small smile.

"We're here for you too, Kensi," Sam said quietly.

"I know. It's what team means, right Sam? Being there for each other." Kensi felt the tension that had gripped her for so long melting slowly away. She needed the team as much as Deeks and knowing they all would fight for him together lessened some of her fear for him.

...

Nell had waited until the team meeting in Hetty's office had broken up, then she popped up in the bullpen and filled the screen with photos of Charley Hansen and his crew. She had done thorough background checks on all of them and could find no connection between any of them and Deeks. She had even gone over traffic cams and security tapes from Deeks' favorite surfing spots over the past year and could not find any person that matched Hansen.

"So you're pretty confident that Hansen hasn't made Deeks?" Callen asked as they went over Nell's intel.

"I'd say I'm ninety percent sure, but I only went back a year." Nell said with a hint of nervousness.

"Well, you gotta admit, Deeks looks pretty much like most of the surfers in LA." Sam laughed.

"Yeah, but Max Gentry doesn't." Callen was still concerned. He hated those little doubts that come when you're only ninety percent sure of something. He always worried about the ten percent you didn't know.

...

Deeks arrived at the loading dock of the building well before the time Charley Hansen and his fellow Marines were scheduled to deliver the weapons and explosives. He waited for Sanchez to turn his back before placing the last two bugs. He knew he was on camera, and he smiled briefly, before stepping back into his alias. He didn't want to get too comfortable as himself just yet, knowing that Camacho was sharp enough to notice the difference between him and Max Gentry.

After the first restful sleep he'd had in a long time, he was anxious for the op to be over and he tried to steady himself, cautioning himself to be patient. He didn't want to make a mistake at this stage. He just wanted to go home and feel safe and try and forget the last three months. He thought about asking Hetty for some time off, so he could get his head straight and wash Max Gentry out of his system with a few days riding the waves. Maybe a trip up the coast to take a run at Mavericks. He'd never ridden those particularly massive breaks before and if he was ever going to drown Max Gentry he would need a set of rough waves to do it in. If it didn't kill him, he thought.

After that he felt he would have the courage to tell Kensi about the woman he had beaten and his decision to end their relationship, and if she didn't shoot him then he would see if she was still willing to continue being his partner. If she wasn't, he was prepared to return to the LAPD and rescind his application to become an agent and forget all about NCIS. Walking away from Kensi would be the hardest thing he would ever have to do, but he needed to protect her from that part of himself that was Max Gentry and the shadow of his father. No matter how hard it was to do, he would do it.

...

The late afternoon sun backlit the arrival of Charley Hansen and the other Marines. Max shook his head as they got out of their vehicles. They were almost mirror images of each other, but Hansen stood out even among this group of buff, tough Marines. Max felt himself tense as Camacho greeted Hansen. If "poster boy" had remembered where he knew Max from, this would be the time to bring it up. He backed up next to a concrete half wall in case he needed cover if everybody started shooting at him. He knew Callen and the team would be close by, but he also knew it would be hard to hold out for long against the superior firepower that surrounded him.

"I've delivered your weapons Camacho. Now, where's my money?" Charley Hansen smiled coldly as he looked at Camacho through aviator sunglasses.

"Max, check out the shipment," Camacho ordered, his eyes never leaving Hansen's face.

Max stepped away from his defensive position and did as he was told. He could feel the testosterone building in the men around him and he steeled himself. He looked at Hansen as he passed him, but his eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses and Max couldn't get a read on him.

"It's all here, boss," Max yelled over to Camacho. "He even brought us some bullets. Ain't that nice."

"Okay Hansen, let's go get your money," Camacho turned and Charley Hansen followed, but not before removing his sunglasses and staring at Max with a hint of a smile and a knowing look on his face.

Max watched him go and then slowly walked back to the half wall to wait. If Hansen had made him, he expected the shooting to start at any time and he looked for an escape route. He tried to slow down his racing heart, so he took several deep breaths as sweat trickled down his chest and anxiety gripped him. Outwardly, he showed nothing; not a hint of nervousness or panic, but internally his stomach was in knots and a brief stab of pain reminded him what taking a bullet felt like. He took a deep breath and waited.

Charley Hansen walked out into the dimming twilight alone. He carried a metal case containing the cash he had demanded to be paid in. No wire transfers for Charley Hansen. He was an old-fashioned traitor and Max wondered just how long his partners would have stayed alive if they weren't all going to be arrested by the NCIS team. Max watched the rest of the Marines high-five and fist bump each other as they got back in their trucks and he could see the eagerness in their eyes. Max was pretty sure most of them would have had their cut spent within a few months, if they weren't arrested, and he allowed himself a small smile at their brief moment of anticipation at living the high life.

Max turned to see Hansen walking toward him and he was instantly on guard. Hansen's sunglasses rested on top of his head, but he dropped them down to cover his eyes as he approached. He walked up and stood almost chest-to-chest with Deeks and Deeks did not take a step back. He simply stood silently and waited to hear what Hansen had to say.

"I know you," Hansen said in a low voice full of cunning. "I saw you surfing in Venice a couple of years ago. So, Max, who are you? A cop, maybe? I could blow your cover right now and watch Camacho gut you like the pig you are."

"Why haven't you?" Deeks let his normal voice ask the question.

"Maybe I'm just feeling generous or maybe I want to trade your life for my getting away free and clear." Hansen's voice was snide and Deeks felt his anger rise at the man's brashness.

"I'm pretty confident that LAPD wants Camacho more than they do me," Hansen continued with an ever-growing smirk of superiority on his face. "So you tell your people to let me pass and I won't yell for Camacho right now and tell him you've been playing him."

Deeks had his gun out and pressed up under Hansen's chin before the Marine could react. His mouth dropped open slightly and Deeks could sense his disbelief in the quick breath that escaped.

"You can go enjoy your newfound wealth or you can be dead...your choice, Charley," Deeks growled, his blue eyes pale and cold. "Cause I don't give a shit about you, you prick. But if you rat me out to Camacho on your way out of here, I'll have my backup team kill you. All I have to do is say the word and you're dead. Understand poster boy?"

Hansen put both hands up as he backed slowly away and Deeks could see the sweat that had broken out on his upper lip. Hansen picked up the metal case full of cash and turned and hurried toward his buddies waiting in the truck. Deeks kept his gun on Hansen until he got in the truck and peeled out, scattering gravel as he tore out of the rail yards. Deeks slowly lowered his weapon and waited for his heart to stop pounding and leaned back against the half wall. He was alone and he was glad. He didn't trust himself to speak, realizing just how close he had come to death. Then he allowed himself a sheepish smile into the camera bug and walked back into the building.

...

Hansen and his men were cut off and surrounded by the team and a tactical squad just before they reached the freeway. One of the Marines decided to fight and began firing. The squad returned fire killing most of the men. Charley Hansen was found slumped dead over the steering wheel with his hand still holding his cell phone. Camacho's number had been entered, but Eric quickly determined the call had never gone through.

When the team returned to Ops there was nervous laughter and brief congratulations but they all realized just how close Deeks had come to having his cover blown.

"I'm sorry guys," Nell said, unable to look at them. "I should have taken my search further back on Deeks' surfing spots."

"Even if you had, Nell, there was no guarantee you would have spotted Hansen." Callen patted her on the shoulder, trying to reassure her, but they all knew it had been pure luck that Hansen hadn't told Camacho that Deeks wasn't who he said he was.

"You okay, Kens?" Sam asked. He had noticed how quiet she was and he worried about her.

"I'm fine." She smiled, knowing deep down that she wasn't and that only Deeks would have called her on her comment. She hugged herself as a chill passed through her and her fear for him felt icy in the pit of her stomach. The only thing she took solace in was the fact that there was only one more day before this operation would finally be over. Then she knew another battle would begin. One she wasn't sure she would win, but one she would fight with everything she had.

She asked Eric to rerun the video of the confrontation between Hansen and Deeks, and while everyone else was impressed with how quickly Deeks got his gun on Hansen, Kensi just found simple joy in seeing the brief image of Deeks as his familiar lopsided grin filled the screen.

...


	11. Chapter 11

**Discord: Chapter 11**

...

Deeks was zoned out on his bed when the pulsating sound of loud music crashed and reverberated against the concrete walls jarring him from his reverie. The music surrounded him, blocking out every sane thought and he knew what it meant. Whenever Camacho played "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns N' Roses, there was a party about to start. It would be a party that featured a lot of booze and drugs and very young girls and Deeks could feel himself cringe at what it would mean for him. He stared at the ceiling in the darkness and tried to control the terror and sadness that threatened to overwhelm him. Camacho would demand his presence and his participation in the orgy that was to come and he struggled with what he should do. Even though there were audio bugs in place and OSP was monitoring Camacho's calls, he had to stay and keep his cover until the meeting tomorrow with the terrorists, and that meant he somehow had to get through this night.

"Fuck!" Deeks slammed his fist into the rough concrete wall next to his bed, bloodying his knuckles as he tried to still the pounding of his heart. "One more day and I would have been home free."

His mind filled with expletives for Vincent Camacho. He was a man of decadent tastes who still clung to the Rock and Roll of the eighties, music he used as the background for his horror filled parties. Deeks had only seen one, but the men talked about them all the time and he knew what to expect. The song playing now was one of Camacho's favorites and the name was appropriate. Deeks knew the jungle he would have to walk through and he tried to prepare himself.

He sat up on the edge of his bed and covered his ears, trying to drown out the deafening music, but it was no use and he could feel rage building inside of him. This kind of thing was made for Max Gentry, but the rage he felt seemed to keep Max at bay, because it was a rage against everything Camacho and Max stood for. He seized the power in that rage and held it and nurtured it and he felt deeply what it would mean for him tonight.

"Hey Max, why you sitting in the dark, man?" Sanchez had been sent to get him and Deeks wanted to beat the living crap out of him.

"Come on, man, it's a party and Camacho is feeling it and he wants you there." Sanchez whined. "He says he's got a gift for you."

Deeks rose slowly and shoved Sanchez roughly out of his way and headed out the door. He walked into a darkened room, lit only by a few industrial lights hanging from the ceiling. The music grew louder and he could feel the beat pulsating in his ears. Just below the metal stairs that led to Camacho's office he could make out numerous mattresses strewn around the floor and his heartbeat quickened. Camacho was sitting on a couch in front of a long, low table covered in whiskey bottles and glasses and drugs of all kinds. Deeks could tell his boss was already drunk and probably high on meth as well.

"Max, come celebrate," Camacho beckoned to him. "You never seem to wanna have any fun. Why is that, man?" Deeks could see Camacho's eyes narrow as he asked the question.

Deeks just stood and shook his head.

"Have a drink, Max, or some meth. I got Angel Dust and Black Bombers, or maybe you want to chill out with some Sweet Lucy? Come on man, loosen up." Camacho was definitely high and talking fast, but Deeks knew he was still sharp and very dangerous.

"What whiskey you pourin' boss?" Deeks smiled as he reached for one of the glasses, but Camacho grabbed his arm and gripped it tightly and stared at him.

"You opted out of the last party, Max," Camacho said, and Deeks could hear the suspicion in his voice. "Don't do that tonight or I might think you're gay or something." Camacho led the chorus of laughter that followed and Deeks joined in.

"Not one of my ladies think so," he said evenly in response.

"Good, cause I got you a present." Camacho snapped his fingers and five very young girls were led into the room and the atmosphere quickly changed. These men were predators of the first order and Deeks felt himself go cold. None of the girls could have been over fourteen and they looked as if they had been on the streets for a while. They all wore revealing outfits and heavy make-up, trying to look older, but one, who Camacho grabbed by the hair, looked scared to death and so very young that Deeks swallowed hard at what he knew was in store for her and he hated himself for being a part of it.

"What's your name, girl?" Camacho asked as he pulled her close and ran his hand up under her top.

"Jilly," she whispered. She was desperately trying to pull away from Camacho and he was enjoying the struggle.

"Well Jilly, this is Max, and tonight your job is to make him happy and do whatever he wants. You got that?" Camacho grabbed her by both arms and pulled her tight against his body and kissed her hard.

It was all Deeks could do to not beat the guy senseless right then, but he kept control of himself as Camacho shoved the girl into his arms.

"Go have some fun, Max. You've been way too serious lately." Camacho turned away then and walked along the line of girls that waited behind him. He touched and fondled each one until he found the one he wanted, a very young black girl with red hair. He pulled her with him to the couch and offered her Angel Dust.

Deeks closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, but the rage he had felt earlier returned and it was just him standing there without his alias anywhere in his mind, and when he opened his eyes, he knew what he was going to do. He didn't know if he would survive it, but a sense of peace settled over him as he took Jilly's hand and led her back toward his room.

He could feel her resistance as he opened the door. She hung back, trying to pull free from him as he motioned for her to go in. Finally he grabbed her other arm and pulled her firmly into the room and shut the door. She backed up against the far wall and slid down until she was sitting on the floor with her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her eyes were furtive, and he heard a small choked sob as he sat down on the bed across from her.

He looked at her, trying to guess her age. She had wispy brown hair that hung past her shoulders, but it was dull and looked as if it hadn't been washed in a while. Her ivory skin was dirty and her clothes mismatched. Tears had gathered in her hazel eyes and he saw raw fear hovering there as she watched him.

"How long have you been on the street, Jilly?" Deeks asked her softly as he leaned back against the concrete wall, trying to give her as much space as he could.

"Two months," she answered in a tiny voice.

"How old are you?" he asked gently. "And don't lie to me."

"I'm thirteen," she whispered as tears began to slide down her cheeks.

"Where's your home?"

"Bakersfield," she sniffled as she wiped her tears.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Jilly." He smiled kindly at her.

"Then why did you bring me in here?" She asked, suddenly defiant.

"To keep you safe, believe it or not," Deeks said. "Why did you run away, Jilly?"

"My step-dad hits me all the time and then he..." She stopped and put her forehead on her knees and her shoulders began to shake.

"So you ran," Deeks shook his head and he closed his eyes and a familiar feeling filled him.

"I know what it's like to be beaten by someone who should be protecting you," he spoke so quietly she raised her head and looked at him. "My dad used to beat me and my mom when he got drunk, which was pretty often."

"Did you run away?" she asked as she leaned her head back against the wall.

"No, I shot him." He could hear her quick intake of breath. "Jilly, I'm going to give you the name of someone who will help you. And then I'm going to help you get away from here. Okay?"

"Okay." She smiled and it made all the difference. Her smile lit up her small face and she looked so young and innocent that Deeks shivered at how close she had come to hell on earth.

Deeks wrote out a short message and the name and address of the woman who ran the shelter where he volunteered. He knew Jilly would get the help and counseling she needed there, and hopefully she would have a good life. He hoped with all his heart that she did. He knew he was risking his life by helping her leave, but he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he gave her back to Camacho. He wished he could save all the girls, but he knew that wasn't possible. He took some solace in the knowledge that Camacho would be taken down tomorrow and locked up for the rest of his life. And if he lived through the night, Deeks would make sure Camacho's new cellmates knew he was a child molester. Prison inmates didn't like them any better than the rest of society and they usually did something violent about it.

He sat talking with Jilly a while longer, giving her directions and telling her about the woman at the shelter and waiting for Camacho and his men to get good and wasted. Then he took her hand and slowly led her out into the hall and checked to make sure they were alone. The music seemed even louder as he opened the back door and smiled down at her.

"Go Jilly," he said. "And take care of yourself."

She hugged him quickly and then ran out into the darkness, pausing briefly to look back and wave like the little girl she was. He watched her until she disappeared behind one of the boxcars.

"What the hell are you doing?" Camacho's voice broke through the raucous sound and Deeks turned to face him.

"Setting her free, you asshole," Deeks answered.

"Sanchez! Go get her!" Camacho was enraged and Deeks could see he had taken a lot of meth and was pulsing with incredible energy and barely contained wrath.

Sanchez tried to push past him and get to the doorway, but Deeks slammed his fist into his face and he collapsed against the wall. Before he could hit Sanchez again Camacho backhanded him across the cheek and he went down. Sanchez kicked him viciously in the ribs as he tried to rise and he felt them crack. The two men yanked him to his feet as more of Camacho's men crowded into the hallway. His arms were forced roughly up behind his back as Camacho stood back to let his bodyguards get their punches in. Deeks tried to protect himself but his mind slowly began to fade as blood streamed down his face and his body convulsed with pain. The beating continued until Camacho finally ordered them to stop.

"Bring him into the main room," Camacho demanded. "I think this party just got interesting."

Deeks had trouble staying on his feet as they dragged him over to the metal stairs. The men were laughing now and he knew what he was in for. Max Gentry had been Camacho's enforcer within the organization. He had kept the men in line, and they hated him. Now Deeks knew Camacho would give them each a chance at payback and would enjoy watching the entertainment.

"Strip him to the waist and hang him from the stair landing," Camacho ordered as he popped another pill, laughing as the drugs surged through his system.

They stretched his arms over his head and tied his wrists tightly to the metal structure so his body hung freely, his feet barely touching the floor. Deeks struggled to stay conscious as his full weight stretched his joints and muscles taut.

"You're weak, Max," Camacho slapped him lightly and smiled. "You haven't been the same since you got shot, and I can't have someone workin' for me who's weak and refuses a nice gift like Jilly."

The first punch came quickly and left him gasping for air. The second caught him just under the armpit and Deeks felt another rib crack. Camacho used to be a boxer in his younger days, and he knew how to hurt a man. The third one broke his nose and warm blood ran down his chin and dripped down onto his bare chest.

"Why'd you let her go, Max?" Camacho asked. He grabbed a handful of Deeks' hair and pulled his head up and looked at him, genuinely curious as to why he'd helped her.

"She's just a little girl," Deeks whispered, barely able to breathe.

Camacho laughed and hit him twice in the face, closing one eye and clotting his hair with blood.

"You just don't know how to have fun, Max," Camacho rubbed his knuckles as he stood in front of his unconscious former employee. "Bring me a bottle of whiskey, Sanchez,"

Camacho drank deeply from the bottle and then pulled Deeks head back and poured whiskey down his throat until he woke up choking on it.

"No sleeping on the job, Max," Camacho said coldly as he watched Deeks coughing up the booze.

Then he broke the whiskey bottle over the stairs and shoved the shattered end into Deeks' stomach. He screamed in agony. One of Camacho's men turned up the music and the crashing sounds of "Welcome to the Jungle" mixed with Deeks' screams and Camacho laughed.

"Okay guys, take your best shot," he urged, offering Max Gentry up to them. "This party's just getting started."

...


	12. Chapter 12

**Discord: Chapter 12**

...

Eric had been in the Ops center since very early in the morning to monitor the bugs in Camacho's office. He had replayed what had been recorded the previous night and something kept bothering him about it, but he couldn't put his finger on it. When Nell arrived he was listening to it for the sixth time and he had a scowl on his face.

"What's up?" Nell asked, quickly picking up on her colleague's uneasiness.

"The recording from last night is bugging me," Eric said as he restarted it again. "They had a pretty loud party going on with lots of Rock and Roll from the eighties, but there was a sound about an hour before it ended that didn't seem to fit the music."

"Are you an authority on eighties Rock and Roll?" Nell asked.

"Well, not exactly, but I have heard that particular song before and something's not right," Eric said as his face settled into a frown.

"Why don't you play it for Sam. He seems like a Rock and Roll kind of guy to me." Nell smiled at Eric, but he was concentrating on the recording and didn't respond.

"Did I hear my name mentioned?" Sam walked in with Callen and they gathered around Eric's desk.

"Hey Sam. You know that Guns N' Roses song, "Welcome to the Jungle"?"

"Yeah Eric. What about it?"

"There was a party last night at Camacho's and they were playing that song over and over," Eric removed his headphones and let the sound flow out into the room.

"What am I listening for, Eric?" Sam shouted over the music. But Eric just held up his hand and they all waited until he stopped the recording and then they all just stared at him.

"What?" Sam looked bewildered and Callen had his hands over his ears.

"Didn't you hear someone scream toward the end?" Eric asked.

"The whole song was full of screaming and yelling, Eric." Sam was staring at him like he was demented.

"Sorry, but what I heard just didn't seem to fit," Eric backed down and turned back to his computer.

"How long did the party last?" Callen asked.

"It started about nine and went on until around three in the morning." Eric answered quietly.

"Seems odd they would have a party before the meet today," Callen said in Sam's direction. "Have you heard anything this morning?"

"Nothing," Eric replied, still a little miffed that no one seemed to hear what he heard or take his concerns seriously.

"Well, give a yell when you hear Camacho set up the meet with Shining Path." Callen said as he and Sam headed back to the bullpen.

...

"Sanchez, cut him down and drag him over to my boxcar," Camacho ordered as he stood in front of the battered body of the man he knew as Max Gentry. He pulled his head up by his hair and smiled at the bloody face. "You still alive, Max?" When Camacho got no response he slapped him and heard a deep groan, so he let his head drop back to his chest and headed for the office.

Deeks tried to take a deep breath as he came to, but it was too painful. He was afraid to move any part of his body. He opened one eye and saw Sanchez coming toward him in a haze of red. He coughed briefly, but paralyzing pain surrounded his chest and he moaned softly and tried to keep still. He could feel his whole body quivering in shock and he was surprised he was still alive.

Sanchez and two other men cut him loose and let him drop to the floor below. He cried out as he hit the concrete and Sanchez walked over and kicked him onto his back.

"Shut up, Max," Sanchez said and kicked him again. "Camacho ain't done with you yet. You shouldn't have let that little girl go, Max. That really pissed him off." He laughed as he motioned for his men.

Sanchez had Max's job now, so he ordered the two men to get Deeks on his feet and drag him out of the room. His body left a smear of blood on the floor when they lifted him and dragged him toward the door. Camacho had a special boxcar he had fixed up for his private parties and it sat on a side track some distance from the industrial building where he had his office. The men followed Sanchez as he made his way across two railroad tracks, dragging Deeks' body through the course gravel and broken bottles of the rail yards. He had trouble staying on his feet and stumbled repeatedly, falling several times, earning curses and kicks from the men. By the time they arrived at Camacho's boxcar, Deeks knees were bleeding badly and his chest and arms were cut up and studded with pieces of broken glass. He groaned as they dragged him up the metal stairs Camacho had found somewhere and dropped him by the opposite wall. The interior was stifling and Sanchez wanted to spend as little time as possible in the miserable place, only staying long enough to tie Deeks' hands behind his back as ordered. Sanchez left him lying face down on the floor of the airless boxcar and rolled the door closed behind him as he left.

...

Eric's whistle pierced the air of the Mission and the team headed quickly upstairs, anxious for this op to be finished. They were solemn as they listened to the audio of Camacho making an appointment for the terrorists of Shining Path to come to the rail yards for the weapons they'd ordered. The meet was to take place at four o'clock that afternoon and everyone noticed how nervous Kensi was. When Camacho ended the call everyone took a deep breath and Callen started to speak, but Kensi cut him off.

"Where was Deeks?" Her voice faltered as she spoke.

"Maybe he was getting things ready for the meeting," Callen said calmly.

"Eric, have you seen or heard him this morning?" Kensi asked.

"I haven't seen him on any of the camera feeds," Eric said softly as he looked sympathetically at her. He didn't want to freak her out by mentioning what he thought he heard on last night's audio, but he still couldn't get it out of his mind.

"Would you let me know if you spot him?" Kensi asked quietly. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her mind returned to the image of Deeks captured on camera after Hansen left. He looked so much like his old goofy self that it made her smile just thinking about it. She was more nervous after she saw that than she should have been, but he was so close to being done with this op that her anxiety was ratcheting up notches at a time the closer they got to the meet. She just wanted him back. She wanted to sit in the sand and watch him catch a wave and see that carefree laugh he always seemed to have on his face when he reached the beach after riding a wave in. God, I miss him, she thought, as she went to meet with Callen and Sam on their plan for the takedown.

...

He woke in the darkened boxcar disoriented and breathing rapidly. His head was swimming as a pulsing agony settled behind his eyes and he struggled to remember where he was. Then he tried to move and he cried out at the heart-stopping pain that seemed to come from every part of his body. He felt hot tears on his cheeks and he choked back a muffled cry as he tried to find any position that would ease the dull throbbing in his muscles, but whenever he moved he began panting from shock. His mouth was dry and he licked his lips, feeling the damage that Camacho and his men had done to him. He was so lightheaded he knew he must have lost a lot of blood and tried to look at the wounds in his stomach to see if they were still bleeding, but it was too dark and he groaned softly at the memory of his own screaming.

He had known it would cost him to help the girl escape, but he could see no other way. When he had watched her wave goodbye, a feeling of euphoria had filled him. Finally, he had done something decent during this op and he felt a sense of relief when she'd disappeared into the night. He couldn't feel Max Gentry anymore. Maybe Camacho had beaten Max out of him, or maybe he had finally gotten the upper hand over his alias when he chose to help the girl. He didn't know, but he was at peace with what he had done.

As he lay panting in the darkness, his mind drifted and finally settled on Jilly. She was so young and he tried to picture her having dinner at the shelter, talking with Tanya and discovering that there were good people in the world, people who meant you no harm and who would show you affection without pain or any strings attached. Tanya had done that for him and he remembered the welcoming smile she had sent his way when he had stumbled on the shelter as a homeless teenager. Tanya would like Jilly and help her and he tried to smile at the thought, but he began to cough and as he tasted the blood in his mouth, he felt a heavy darkness closing down his mind, dulling his senses. He lay alone in the humid air and didn't think he would live much longer as exhaustion infused his body and he drifted out to the edge of nothingness.

...

"Everyone in position?" Callen asked through his com link.

"We're good to go, G," Sam answered from his position near the loading dock.

"Kensi, your site line good?"

"I'm good, Callen," Kensi was on the top of a boxcar overlooking the scene where the weapons would change hands. She had seen numerous men walking around, but had yet to spot Deeks, and her stomach was clinched tight with worry. She knew something was wrong; otherwise he would be here, overseeing the weapons transfer and ready to help in the takedown.

"Where the hell are they, G?" Sam was on edge and it surprised Callen.

"Everybody needs to calm down," Callen felt the tension rising by the second. They were all worried about Deeks and wanted this operation over as soon as possible, but they needed to focus on the takedown right now, or mistakes could cost lives.

"Callen?"

"Yeah Eric?"

"I just picked up a conversation between Camacho and someone named Sanchez," Eric spoke slowly and his voice was deep and sad and Callen felt himself tense.

"What about Eric?" Callen asked, dreading his answer.

"I'll play it for you," he replied softly. "I'll play it for all of you." Callen could hear a hint of anger in the tech's voice and he prepared himself for bad news.

The team listened silently as Eric played the conversation over their com links.

"Sanchez? Max still breathin'?" Camacho asked.

"He was when I left him, just barely, boss."

"Good, cause I'm not done with him yet."

"We gonna have another party, boss?"

"Oh yeah and I got something special planned for him that'll make last night seem like child's play."

Eric cut off the audio and there was silence from all of them.

"Callen, that was Deeks' scream I heard on last night's audio feed," Eric said with reproach and his voice wavered as he spoke and Callen knew he was very angry.

Callen thought he heard Kensi crying, but he had to see this op through, so he depressed his emotions and the deadly anger that he could feel gathering in his gut.

"Let's finished this thing," he said to them all. "Status report!" He needed to know they were all able to complete this mission.

"I'm good," Sam reported.

"Good," Kensi said hoarsely.

After everyone reported, he heard trucks coming through the gates, the gravel crunching softly as they parked at the loading dock. Six men stepped out of the two vehicles and Callen watched as Camacho walked out of the building and shook the leader's hand. A large metal case changed hands and he saw Camacho point to the boxes full of weapons and explosives and he called for the tactical squad to move in. He was tired of waiting and he really wanted to shoot somebody.

"Federal agents! You're under arrest!" Callen yelled and charged. Sam followed him in as Kensi began firing from atop the boxcar, taking out the leader of Shining Path and two of his men. Camacho and some of his men managed to make it inside the building as the loading dock exploded with gunfire. Callen and Sam breached the building interior, yelling for them all to surrender and shooting down anyone who resisted. As the tactical squad began to round up the surviving members of Shining Path, Sam wounded one of Camacho's men as he tried to escape and then dragged him to where Callen was standing.

"What's your name?" Callen yelled in the man's face as he yanked him close to his chest.

"Sanchez," the man whined. "I need a doctor, man."

"You're going to need a whole team of doctors if you don't tell me where Max Gentry is." Callen told him with venom dripping from his words.

"Why you want him, man? Camacho fired his ass good last night." Sanchez laughed with a knowing look on his face until Sam kicked his legs out from under him and he ended up on his back looking into three faces dark with raging intensity.

"What for?" Sam demanded.

"He helped one of Camacho's girls escape and Camacho made him pay big time." Sanchez was seriously scared now. "He's probably dead by now, anyway. Why do you want him?"

"Because he's one of us," Kensi said harshly and placed the muzzle of her rifle on Sanchez's forehead. "Now, where is he?"

"You shittin' me?" Sanchez was genuinely surprised. "Max is a cop? If he ain't dead yet, Camacho will kill him for sure."

"Where is Camacho?" Callen suddenly realized none of them had seen the boss man among the living or the dead.

"I saw him running out into the rail yards," Sanchez said as he tried to back away from Kensi. "He probably figured out it was Max that tipped you guys, and he's gonna go kill him. No way he'll let him live now."

"Show me where he is or there's no way you live longer than two seconds." Callen yanked Sanchez to his feet and shoved him toward the door to the rail yard.

Rushing across the desolate landscape, Callen kept replaying what Eric had said about hearing a scream that rose above the music and he knew he should have listened to the tech. That one mistake would haunt him for the rest of his days if they didn't find Deeks alive.

As the team raced through the rail yards in the dying light, fear raced with them.

...


	13. Chapter 13

**Discord: Chapter 13**

...

He was roused from his dreamless sleep by the sound of gunfire. He lay quietly listening and trying to place himself. When he opened his eyes there was nothing but darkness, so he saw only the small pieces of trash that were lying next to his face and moved slightly whenever he breathed. He smelled oil and something rank and he could taste blood in his mouth, but nothing brought anything to mind as to why he was lying facedown on the floor with his hands tied behind his back. Then he tried to move. His effort was rewarded with such unendurable pain that he longed for unconsciousness so he could find some relief, but it did not come.

The sound of automatic weapons distracted him as he panted in the gloom and he could hear men shouting. He must have been undercover, he thought, as his mind searched for answers. But what assignment had it been? Was it for LAPD or NCIS? He wasn't sure and that scared him. He needed to be sharp, but he was so lightheaded his mind just wandered and wouldn't settle on any one memory. He decided to try and raise his head, but when he did the vertigo he experienced was so violent he began to retch and that brought back the mind-bending pain and he cried out in the darkness. He brought his knees up toward his chest and that caused such a sharp, slicing pain in his gut that it cut through the fog in his mind and in a split second he remembered everything.

He remembered and knew what the gunfire meant. The team was attacking and Camacho was being apprehended, maybe even killed and he smiled, even though it brought fresh blood to his lips. But what if Camacho was killed; what if all his men were killed and the team couldn't find him? Then he would die here, alone and in agony. For the first time since he had been left here he felt afraid. He had always thought he was prepared to die. He'd been prepared to die since he was eleven years old, but he had always fought the urge to give in and to accept his fate. He could have let his father shoot him, but he didn't, and he didn't want to give in now either. Now he felt himself close to death, but still he resisted, still he held out hope that he wouldn't die alone, that somehow, the team would find him and save him.

He felt fresh tears running down his face and he whispered each team member's name, starting with Kensi. He knew she would search for him for as long as it took to find him. That was just her way, and because he knew beyond a doubt that she loved him. She would never give up on him and he felt hopeful because of her. She wouldn't let him go no matter what he had told her. She never listened to him anyway and that made him smile.

Then he thought of Sam and when he spoke his name out loud in the darkness, he gathered strength from it, because he was the strongest man he knew, not just physically, but in his beliefs and in his character. Sam would never leave a man behind because he was all about the team. Sam would come for him, he knew he would.

And then he breathed out Callen's name, the man who had told him he was no better than his father, and he shuddered at what had happened between them. Why had they been so angry at each other? There had never been that kind of animosity between them before. He knew Callen hated Max Gentry, but he had never seen him so out of control. He hit me. My own team leader hit me, and it had shaken his confidence. Callen had apologized and had been suffering from a skull fracture when he did it, but it still made him feel unsure about what Callen's feelings about him were. He wondered if Callen still thought he was more Max Gentry than Deeks, and if he did, would he fight to save him? He wasn't sure and it filled him with anxiety and fear.

He paused in his thoughts when he heard footsteps outside. The door slid open and he was blinded by the brightness that flooded the dingy space. He closed his eyes against the harsh light and felt his whole body go cold as a voice shattered any hope he still had that he would survive.

"Max, I'm gonna kill you, you son of a bitch," Camacho roared. "You ratted me out and I'm gonna make you pay. You think last night was bad? You ain't seen nothin' yet."

With that he strode over and stood looking down at Deeks, breathing hard, and Deeks could almost feel the rage boiling inside of him. He straddled Deeks' body, grabbed him by the arms and lifted him to his feet and slammed him against the side of the rail car. Bright points of flashing pain brought him to the edge of blackness and he sagged in Camacho's grip.

"Don't you pass out on me, you fuckin' snitch," Camacho shouted in Deeks face as he shoved him higher up on the wall of the boxcar.

"Why'd you rat me out, Max? Money?" Camacho's voice was now a lethal growl. When he got no reply, he slugged his fist into Deeks' stomach where he had stabbed him with the bottle and Deeks screamed in pain and slid toward the floor.

Camacho pulled him back up and slapped him until he opened his eyes.

"How much did they pay you, Max?" Camacho was whispering now, his body pressed against Deeks chest, holding him upright. His hand grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his face close.

"Nothing," Deeks answered and Camacho slammed his head back against the wall.

"Liar."

"Just my salary," he whispered as he gasped for air.

Camacho stopped at that and stared hard into Deeks' blood streaked face.

"You a fuckin' cop, Max?" Camacho sounded completely stunned.

"Marty Deeks, LAPD." Somehow, he managed a smile when he said it, finding it felt good to say his real name.

Camacho let out an angry roar and threw Deeks into the middle of the floor of the boxcar. The impact knocked him out and blood seeped from his nose and mouth.

...

Callen stopped when he heard the scream. They all stopped and looked at one another, then turned and raced toward the direction the sound had come from. Their guns were drawn and their faces set in rigid determination. As they rounded the end of a green boxcar covered in graffiti, they saw a set of metal stairs leading to the door.

"Boss! Cops!" Sanchez shouted a warning before Sam pistol-whipped him to the ground.

Callen took the stairs in two strides, followed closely by Kensi and Sam. What they saw as they breached the door horrified them and Kensi shouted an angry cry of despair. Deeks was on his knees in front of Camacho, who was holding him back against his body by his hair, with a gun to his head. He was barely conscious and his face and body was so battered and bloody that he was almost unrecognizable.

"Come any closer and I kill him," Camacho's voice was low and mean and the look on his face was feral. "And I'll enjoy doing it." He smiled and jerked Deeks' head back hard and the team heard him moan as he slumped against Camacho's knees.

"You've got no place to go, Camacho," Callen growled as the team moved slowly inside and spread out.

"Maybe not, but I got him," he replied coldly. "He's a friend of yours, I'm guessing."

"Yeah, he's one of ours and we're here to take him home," Callen answered.

Callen stared intensely at the arms dealer, trying to keep his emotions in check but he was having difficulty doing it. He glanced briefly at Deeks and his stomach turned. His rage was building and he was close to losing it as he looked for his shot.

"Let him go and we can talk," Callen said and Camacho could see the intensity in the agent's flashing blue eyes.

"Or, I could just shoot the son of a bitch," Camacho laughed. "He played me and I don't like being played. I should have known he wasn't who he said he was when he let the girl go. So I really, really want to shoot him. Besides, I don't like prison."

Sam took another step to the right of Callen and prayed they would find some way to get Deeks away from this maniac. He was barely holding himself in check and if he allowed himself to look at Deeks he knew his self-control would fail. How Deeks was still alive, he didn't know, but he wasn't going to let this sorry piece of shit hurt him anymore.

Kensi was shaking with so much rage she wasn't sure she could hit the man if she saw an opening to fire. Seeing Deeks in so much pain made her heart ache for him. She wanted to hold him and she wanted to seriously maim and then kill the man who did this to him.

"Just shoot him," Deeks said hoarsely and winced at the effort it took to speak. "He doesn't deserve to live."

"Shut up, cop." Camacho growled and kneed him hard in the back. Deeks gasped, but the team saw his eyes flash with anger and they took another step forward.

"You're a degenerate asshole, Camacho," Deeks said breathlessly. "You can only get it up with little girls, you pile of shit."

"I said shut up!" Camacho shouted.

Camacho raised his gun up to strike him and all three agents fired and Camacho's head exploded, blood and brains spattering the back wall. As he fell backward onto the floor, Deeks collapsed into Callen's arms.

"I've got you, Marty," Callen said softly as he cradled the wounded man to his chest.

"You came," Deeks whispered as tears streaked through the blood on his face. He fought to stay conscious as he looked at each of them in turn, trying to let them know just how much it meant to him that they had come to save him.

Sam cut his hands free and he cried out, convulsing in pain at the movement. Sam took one of his hands and held it, too emotional to speak. All he could think about was the photo he had seen of Deeks as a four-year-old after being beaten by his father. Now he looked into the same blue eyes and he wondered if he could survive a beating this bad.

"You fight, Deeks," Sam said fervently, finally finding his voice. "You fight like the four-year-old Marty Deeks, you hear me?" And he saw recognition in Deeks' eyes.

Kensi had immediately alerted Eric to send an ambulance and to let him know Deeks was alive, but critical and then she started to shake. She knelt down next to him, but was afraid to touch him and cause him any more pain. Finally she stroked his head slowly, entwining her fingers in his hair as tears streamed from her eyes.

"I missed you guys," Deeks said softly as he slowly drifted into unconsciousness and slumped in Callen's arms.

"We missed you too, Deeks," Callen said quietly as he looked at Sam through red-rimmed eyes. "We missed you too."

...


	14. Chapter 14

**Discord: Chapter 14**

...

"He's not breathing!" The paramedic in the ambulance pushed Kensi aside and immediately started CPR on Deeks and all she could do was watch helplessly.

She had demanded to go in the ambulance with him, not wanting to let him out of her sight now that she had found him, but seeing him like this was almost more than she could stand. The world around her went silent as she watched the EMT work. He seemed as if he was moving in slow motion and she couldn't even move her hands. She felt frozen, unable to move because icy fear held her in shocked silence as her eyes stayed on his face. She wanted to talk to him, shout at him, tell him he couldn't die. Not now. But she just stared, unable to do anything to save him and she hated herself for it. They had found him. They had saved him from Camacho, but now the beating he had suffered at that man's hands was threatening to take him away from her, and she knew she couldn't do anything to stop it.

Then she heard him draw in a deep breath and she woke from her nightmare. She felt the tears come and she wiped them hastily away. Now she had to be strong for him, because it was all she had to give him. The EMT immediately put him on oxygen and she watched his chest rise and fall in a regular rhythm and she closed her eyes and reached for his hand. She squeezed it, but got no response, but his hand was warm and she took comfort in that.

When they got to Emergency, she could see that Sam and Callen were already there, waiting with wounded looks on their faces. She climbed down and stood with them as the EMTs unloaded the gurney carrying Deeks and all three were silent as he was rushed past them, doctors already coming to his aid, getting specifics on his condition. The three agents walked slowly into the ER, exhaustion and uncertainty etched on their faces. Sam wrapped his arm around Kensi and she took Callen's hand as they watched Deeks disappear into one of the emergency rooms.

"Callen?" Hetty called out. She came out of the waiting room with Eric behind her. The three agents turned and she could see the deep sadness in their eyes, and it shook her.

"How is he?" she asked.

"Hetty, I've never seen anyone beaten that badly," Callen looked broken and she wasn't used to seeing that in him. "Eric, I should have listened to you this morning." He couldn't even look at the tech and Eric was having trouble holding himself together.

"He'll make it," Sam said softly, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself that it was true.

"He stopped breathing in the ambulance," Kensi said to no one in particular. She looked like she was on the verge of collapse and Hetty took her arm and led her into the waiting room. The others followed silently.

Hetty had been so pleased with how the team had finally come together in their effort to bring Deeks home, but now she worried that they would never be the same if they lost him now. She knew Deeks was a strong man, a man who had survived a horrific childhood and come out on the side of light, not letting the brutality shape him. He was a survivor and she could only hope he could do it again.

...

"Ms. Lange?" An ER doctor called out into the crowded waiting room.

"Yes," Hetty said quietly and walked to her, followed by four anxious people.

It had been over an hour since Deeks had been brought in and now they gathered together hoping hear good news, but none of them were counting on it. They knew how bad it was through experience and they held no illusions about his chances of survival. Callen especially had a hard time believing that Deeks would live. He had held him in his arms and he had felt like a broken rag doll. Deeks had known what would happen to him if he helped the girl escape from Camacho, but he had done it anyway. He sacrificed himself for a runaway teenager and Callen was positive that it was all Deeks who had made that decision; Max Gentry didn't figure in it at all. Deeks had won the battle over his alias, but it would probably cost him his life, and Callen wasn't sure he could deal with that.

"I'm Dr. Mayer. I want to give you an update on Mr. Deeks. His injuries are significant as I'm sure you are aware" she said, looking directly at Callen, who was still covered in Deeks' blood. "He's been unconscious since being brought in so he can't tell us anything, but we finally managed to get him stabilized. He has multiple broken ribs and a punctured lung and we believe a ruptured spleen and he's got some internal bleeding, in addition to the stab wound and concussion he suffered. Now he's on his way upstairs for X-rays and a CAT scan. From there we'll take him into surgery. The CAT scan should give us a better idea of the damage to his other organs."

"What are his chances of survival, doctor?" Hetty asked.

The doctor could see the dejection on the faces of the group of people in front of her and she wanted to encourage them, but the look on her face gave her away.

"I wish I could tell you he's going to be fine. But the truth is, he's fighting for his life against long odds." Dr. Mayer said quietly. "I think you should prepare yourselves." She started to go, but then turned back to look at them. "He must be a fighter, or he wouldn't have survived this long. We'll do our best to give him a fighting chance."

Hetty felt tears sting her eyes and she reached out to steady herself and Eric took her arm as Callen took the other. They helped her sit and Callen was concerned for her.

"I didn't even recognize him when they wheeled him past me, Callen" Hetty said sadly. "I should have pulled him out when he saved you and Kensi. This is my fault."

"No it isn't, Hetty. Deeks knew he'd be in for it if he crossed Camacho," Callen said. "But he wouldn't let a teenage girl be brutalized. It was his decision. It isn't like you to second guess yourself, Hetty."

"But I do, Mr. Callen, I do." Hetty stared solemnly into space and Callen left her.

"Eric, I owe you an apology," Callen gripped the tech's arm tightly and his face was full of barely contained emotion. "If I had listened to you, Deeks would have been in the hospital early this morning."

"But if you had gone in early, we wouldn't have captured the terrorists," Eric said. "Even if you had known he was injured, it would have been a tough decision. None of us could have imagined how badly he was hurt."

"Yeah, but I still should have listened to you. Your instincts are good, Eric, and I should have trusted you." Callen squeeze the tech's shoulder and Eric smiled at the senior agent's praise, his anger at him gone.

Nell came in with Callen's go bag and he was finally able to rid himself of his bloody clothes. After he changed, he found himself shaking as he stared at Deeks' blood on his shirt and pants as he held them in his hands. He had never gotten particularly close to Deeks, but now he found himself devastated at the thought of loosing him. Callen realized he had actually been looking forward to the day Deeks' paperwork came through and he became an agent. He and Sam had laughed about initiating him in some embarrassing way, and he felt a deep sadness that they might not get the chance to laugh with him about it. He had a great laugh and he could even make Sam laugh, which was quite an accomplishment considering the SEAL's stoic nature. He was still staring at his blood-soaked shirt when Sam came into the men's room and found him.

"You okay, G?" Sam gripped his shoulder, making him break his trance.

"No, I don't think I am, Sam," Callen roughly wiped tears from his eyes and Sam pulled him in for a quick hug.

"He's going to make it, G," Sam told him. But Callen just shook his head and looked at Sam, his eyes bright with tears.

"We should have gotten to him sooner, Sam," Callen said, "I don't see how he can survive a beating like that."

"He survived what his own father did to him, G," Sam said. "I saw photos of him after a beating he took when he was only four, and it was brutal. He survived that and a lot more and he grew up to be our very own annoying surfer who never shuts up. Don't sell him short, G. He's tough." Sam was smiling by the time he finished and it gave some encouragement to Callen as they went to join the rest of the team.

...

Kensi was talking quietly with Nell as they sat in the waiting room outside the OR. It was almost midnight and they still had no word on Deeks.

"That last time he was in, he tried to push me away, and I don't know why," Kensi shredded the tissue that was in her hands as she remembered her last conversation with Deeks.

"Why would he do that, Nell?" Kensi felt drained and the waiting was starting to weigh on her.

"They do a lot of things they're not proud of when they're undercover, Kens, especially as an alias like Max Gentry," Nell said softly. She could see how anxious Kensi was. They were all feeling the strain of not knowing whether he was alive or dead and they were all coping with the situation in their own way. Eric was playing video games on his iPad, Sam was meditating while Callen just paced. She didn't know where Hetty had gone, but she was supposed to call her as soon as they had news.

Nell looked back at Kensi and saw her rise with an expectant look on her face, and she went and took her hand as the surgeon walked toward them. Nell sent a quick text to Hetty and was surprised that the tiny woman appeared almost immediately and unnoticed as she always did.

"You all here for Mr. Deeks?" the tired looking surgeon asked. "I'll be brief. I know you've been here a long time. He survived the surgery and he's in recovery now, but he still has a long fight ahead of him. Whoever did this to him must have wanted him dead, so he's lucky and he's tough and we did our part. There was a lot of blood loss and internal bleeding and we found a bullet fragment, which we removed. His lung was punctured and partially collapsed so we reinflated it and we've got him intubated to help him breathe for a while. You can see him when he gets to ICU. I'll have a nurse come and get you."

"What are his chances, Doc," Sam asked.

"Fifty-fifty, I'd say. He must be strong to have survived the initial beating and having you all to support him will help. But it will be a fight." The exhausted surgeon accepted all their thanks and hand shakes and then said, "I hope the police got whoever did this to him."

"We took care of the bastard, Doc," Sam said coldly. "Deeks is a cop and we're Federal agents and the man that hurt him paid the ultimate price."

The surgeon looked stunned, but then nodded and walked away.

...

Each one took turns sitting with him in the ICU throughout that first night. None of them had recognized him when they first entered the room. His head had been partially shaved, revealing deep gashes that were either stitched or bandaged. A bandage over his broken nose obscured most of his face and both eyes were dark with bruises and his mouth was swollen and marked by several stitches. He was on a breathing tube and IV's and monitor wires snaked across the bed and he was covered in warming blankets. The only sound in the room was the soft beeping of the monitors that told them all that he was still alive.

The next day, Kensi was with him for most of the day and sent text messages to them all as they completed paperwork on the takedown of Camacho and Shining Path. There was no change in his condition on the second day, and he still had not regained consciousness, but he continued to hold his own. Callen came to relieve Kensi on the third night so she could go home and get some sleep, but she didn't want to leave him, since they had just removed the breathing tube and she was hoping he would wake up. But Callen promised her he would call her if he woke up, so she finally agreed to go.

Callen was dozing in the chair when his light sleep was disturbed by someone softly coughing. He looked to see if a nurse had come in, but saw no one. Then he looked toward the bed and Deeks was staring at him with barely opened eyes.

"Deeks," Callen moved to stand next to the bed and gently put his hand on his arm. "You look like shit, but it's good to see you awake."

Deeks didn't say anything; he just stared at Callen and then closed his eyes. Callen pressed the call button and waited for the nurse to come so he could tell her Deeks had regained consciousness. She found him there, holding Deeks' hand with tears on his face.

"He woke up," he said.

...


	15. Chapter 15

**Discord: Chapter 15**

...

"Has he said anything yet?" Sam asked Kensi when he joined her outside Deeks' room.

"No, he just stares at me." She sounded exhausted and Sam handed her the coffee he had brought her.

"He hasn't smiled either," Kensi said. "Sam, I'm scared for him. What if he has brain damage?"

"Have you asked the doctor about it?"

Kensi just shook her head as she drank her coffee.

"Kensi, it's only been three days since he regained consciousness."

"I know, but when Deeks isn't talking, I get nervous."

"It's bothering G too. He said he's been talking nonstop to him about everything he can think of just to see if he can get a reaction." Sam led her to one of the chairs outside the ICU. "Kens, we have to be patient with him. His body is still in shock."

"I know, but I miss his smile and his stupid comments."

"Me too, Kens," Sam laughed at the look he got from Kensi and held up his hands, surprised as she was that he missed the wiseass remarks that had always bugged him.

"Can you stay with him a little while, Sam? I need to go feed Monty."

"Yeah Kens, G is coming by with a pizza. Should we save you some?"

"No thanks, I'm not hungry."

Her lack of appetite bothered Sam, but he let it go. He watched her walk down the dimly lit hall and he could see how dejected she was just by her body language and he knew the only cure for that was a smile or comment from Deeks. He sat by himself, lost in thought, until Callen showed up with the pizza.

"Hey, Sam. Ready for an experiment?"

"What kind of experiment?"

"A pizza experiment on our Mr. Deeks."

They entered the darkened room with the delicious smelling pizza, opening the box right next to his bed. He was sleeping, but as they each ate a piece and moaned with pleasure they saw him slowly open his eyes and turn his head toward them. His brow furrowed as he watched them silently. Then he licked his lips and stared at the pizza box.

"You're mean," Deeks said, looking up at them.

"A man's gotta eat, Deeks," Callen said with a huge smile.

"Pepperoni?" Deeks asked, raising his eyebrows.

"With sausage, olives and artichoke hearts, too," Sam laughed, taking another piece.

"You really are mean," Deeks said. "I'm still on an IV and you bring in pizza?" Then he smiled crookedly and shook his head.

"Welcome back, Marty," Sam said quietly.

...

After almost a month in the hospital, Deeks was finally being discharged. His face looked almost normal now, but he still walked gingerly and had a persistent cough the doctors were still treating. His hair was shorter and he had only blond fuzz over the left side of his head where they had shaved it to get to the gashes in his scalp, so he had asked Kensi to bring him a hat to wear when he left the hospital. Sam and Callen came to help Kensi get him home and he suspected something was up by the smirks on their faces.

"What's going on?" Deeks looked at them suspiciously.

"Nothing," Kensi said, a look of total innocence on her face. "I brought you the hat you asked for."

All of them were smiling broadly as Kensi pulled out a Spiderman knit cap with earflaps and long dangling ties with pom-poms on the ends.

"I love it." Deeks said, happily donning the goofy red hat and climbing into the wheelchair.

"You're really going to wear that thing outside of this room?" Sam asked.

"It suits him, Sam," Callen said, laughing at his stunned partner.

"It shows I've got swagger, Sam," Deeks was all smiles as he said goodbye to all the doctors and nurses, a few of whom had tears in their eyes.

"That is not swagger, that's just silly. You look like a four-year-old." Sam said, and then paused as he realized what he had said, recalling the image that again filled his mind.

...

He was quiet on the drive home and Kensi kept looking over at him, but he just stared out the window. When he opened the door to his apartment, he was almost knocked over by Monty. The dog was wiggling and barking and Marty finally just sat down on the floor with him and let the dog crawl all over him, only grimacing once when Monty managed to step on one of his broken ribs that hadn't quite healed.

Sam fussed over him and Callen checked all the security measures he and Eric had put in place, just in case.

"I'm fine, you guys, really," Deeks finally said and they could tell he was exhausted, so they hugged him and started to leave.

"I'll call you guys later," Kensi said as she sat down on the couch.

"Kens, I'd really like to be alone," Deeks said.

"You want me to leave?"

"Please. I just need some time to my self," Deeks looked serious and sad at the same time and Kensi was suddenly not so sure this was a good idea.

"I'll call you," Deeks said, looking uncomfortable, but anxious for her to leave. But she just stood there, unwilling to leave; afraid for some reason she couldn't define.

"Kens, I've been surrounded by nurses and doctors for over a month, all telling me what to do and when to do it, and right now I just want some privacy." He looked exasperated and there was a hint of anger in his voice.

"Okay," she said, following the two agents out the door, but everyone could tell she was not happy about it.

When he closed the door behind them, Deeks drew in a deep breath and wandered aimlessly over to the fridge and looked inside, hoping someone had stocked it for him. He was not disappointed and smiled at finding not only his favorite beer, but also plastic containers full of food from Nell, with microwave instructions taped to the top. Hetty had contributed some choice take-out from a couple of the best restaurants in LA, and Kensi had stocked the freezer with his and her favorite ice cream.

"Well, Monty, it's just you and me again," Deeks took a beer out onto the balcony and closed his eyes as he stood in the warm sun. It was a pleasure just to be outside again.

He slowly drank the beer and thought about how to tell Kensi he was breaking off their relationship. It had been on his mind almost constantly since he woke up in the hospital. Even though he hadn't felt Max Gentry for some time, he knew that the darkness of soul he had inherited from his father was still a part of him, and a part of him he did not trust. He knew he couldn't wait long to tell her, or he might talk himself out of it. He had been so glad to see her sitting by his hospital bed, that he couldn't picture his life without her. He loved her. But that was why he had to distance himself from her. He had to protect her from that dark part of himself that he wasn't sure he could control. When he finished the beer he sat down on the floor with his back against the wall and scratched Monty's ears as he tried to figure out when to tell Kensi about pink-lipped Wanda and what he had done to her. If he told her that story first, he was pretty sure she would agree with him about ending their relationship.

He had never minded living alone, but now the prospect of a life without Kensi and possibly NCIS as well, caused him to sigh deeply and a feeling of depression settled over him. If Kensi wouldn't agree to continue their partnership at NCIS after they broke up, he would return to being a cop, but he wasn't sure he would stay in LA. The thought of running into her at all would be too difficult. He felt himself beginning to shake and it scared him. He was still weak from his injuries and the emotional turmoil was starting to overwhelm him. Monty noticed the change in him, and poked his nose under his chin and whined, finally pawing him on the leg, making Deeks look sadly at him and smile.

"You want to go to the beach, Monty?"

Deeks carefully eased himself to his feet and went to change into shorts and a tee shirt, glad that the weather was so mild. He'd missed the beach. It had always been a place of refuge for him, so he looked forward to feeling the soft breeze that carried the smell of the ocean and the cries of the gulls. He wanted to sit in the warm sand and watch the surfers ride the waves and finally relax. Then he would think about where he would go if he had to leave LA, and how to cope with giving up the woman he loved.

"Thanks, Monty, you're a good friend to have around."

...

He walked slowly along the beach at the edge of a dying wave and shivered as the water washed over his bare feet. His mind drifted back over the past few months and he felt his depression deepen. He looked for Monty for the needed distraction and saw him running up the beach, heading toward a lone figure with long dark hair gently blowing in the wind. He froze when he saw her. He couldn't face her now; he wasn't strong enough. He turned away from her and headed in the opposite direction, trying to jog a little but he quickly found himself breathing heavily and then he began to cough, making him stop. He bent over as his coughing continued and his ribs pulsed with a dull pain. He began to feel dizzy and dropped to his knees. Then she was there in front of him, holding him and pulling his head onto her shoulder, rubbing his back until his coughing eased.

"I can't talk to you now," he said, his breath coming in short gasps.

"Then just sit and catch your breath, Marty," she said holding his face in her hands and looking into his eyes. "You don't have to say anything."

He sat down in the sand and she got behind him and pulled him back against her chest and he couldn't help but lean back into her embrace as she wrapped her arms around him. He felt his racing heart slow down and he closed his eyes as he slowly began to breathe normally. It felt good to be held. Her touch was so gentle compared to what he had suffered through that he felt he could lie there forever in the sun, with her arms around him. But he knew that wasn't to be, not after what he'd done.

"I'll miss you Kens," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What does that mean?" She had been stroking his arms, but she stopped when he spoke.

"I don't think we should be together anymore."

"Why?" she asked softly and he could hear the hesitation in her voice and in her breathing.

"Because I don't trust a certain part of myself with you," he said. "I'm a danger to you."

"In your dreams, Deeks."

He heard the anger and unbelief and he turned to face her. He sat cross-legged in front of her and took her hands in his and looked at them and rubbed his thumbs across her palms and slowly began to tell her about Wanda, the pink-lipped woman he had picked up in the bar and beaten. He never looked at her face, just at her hands, and as he told the story he saw them clench and then she pulled away from his grasp and he knew what that meant. He kept his head down as she stood and moved away from him and he heard her blow out her breath several times like she does before a firefight. He stared at the sand and felt tears sting his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. He had expected nothing less from her and he knew he deserved her reaction. It's what he had counted on.

"If you're willing, I could still be your partner at NCIS," he said. "But I'll understand if you want to break all ties. I'll rescind my application to be an agent and move to another city and just go back to being a cop."

"Sounds like you have everything all planned out," she said.

"It's all I've thought about since I woke up the morning after my night with Wanda."

"And you expect me to just go along with these plans of yours?"

"There's no other way, Kens."

He looked up at her then and he saw her jaw clench and the fury storming in her eyes.

"Do you love me?" Her question caught on the wind and the words drifted out over the waves as he looked at her standing silhouetted against the muted blue sky.

"God, yes, Kens. It's why I'm doing this'" he said. Then he dropped his eyes and stared at the ocean, afraid to look at her again. It was too painful.

She sat down in front of him and took his hands and forced him to look at her.

"Do you really? Because it seems to me, you are giving me up pretty easily." she said.

"Kens, I...," he stammered and shook his head.

"You know how much I loved my father, and I lost him." Her face was intense as she stared into his eyes and he couldn't look away.

"And then there was Jack, a man I thought I loved, who simply walked away. And now there's you. I didn't think I was capable of the kind of love I have for you, Marty. And I didn't fall in love with you because you were perfect, because we both know you're not. Neither am I. But I am deeply in love with you, Marty Deeks. I hate what you did, but I don't hate you because of it. Do you really think I would just let you push me away without a fight because you decided it would be the best thing for me? If you did, you don't know me very well. So, I'm letting you know, right now, that I'm not leaving and neither are you. We're partners. Together we will deal with whatever you did and with whatever deep dark secrets you think you have or that may come out sometime in the future. I know you're a fighter Marty, or you wouldn't be alive to have this conversation. Well, I'm a fighter too, and I choose to fight your demons, not run away from them. It's what we do, Deeks. We charge in when everyone else is leaving the scene. We can't live our lives any differently; I wouldn't want to and neither would you."

When she finally paused for a breath he was smiling at her.

"What?" she said.

"You call that a conversation? That was more like a monologue." He said laughing. "Did you even take a breath?"

"I didn't want you to stop me from saying what I wanted to say."

"I'm in trouble aren't I?"

"You are if you try to walk away from me."

"I never wanted that, Kens. I was just afraid that I would hurt you and I would never be able to live with myself if I hurt you."

"The only way you can hurt me is if you leave me, Marty." Her eyes quickly filled with tears and he reached out and wiped one from her cheek.

"Then I better not leave." His voice was soft and she could see the joy in his eyes as he reached for her.

...

Epilogue:

"Have you seen Deeks?" Kensi asked, concern etched on her face.

Callen and Sam shook their heads as they looked up from their paperwork. They looked at each other with curiosity as Kensi hurried upstairs to check in Ops. Deeks had been back on modified duty for almost a week, and Kensi never let him out of her sight. She was always fussing over him and making sure he wasn't overdoing anything, and everyone, including Sam and Callen, knew they would be in big trouble if they overworked him, especially in the gym or on the gun range. Sam had endured a tongue lashing from her when Deeks came down with a fever after working out with him. So everyone was on their toes around her and Deeks.

"He's in big trouble when she finds him," Sam laughed.

"He's gonna be in big trouble for the rest of his life," Callen said. He did feel a touch of concern himself about where Deeks could possibly be. There weren't a lot of places to hide around the Mission and he still wasn't cleared to drive.

"Callen, I can't find him." Kensi said, a look of fear crossed her face and even Sam was starting to look worried.

Nell and Eric came down from Ops to let them know Deeks' car was still at his apartment.

"His cell phone is on his desk," Kensi said quietly. "We have no way to track him."

They all became very quiet, trying to figure out what he was up to. He had been very quiet the last couple of days and that had concerned all of them. He had been like his old self when he first came back, making his signature wisecracks and playing pranks on everyone and making people laugh with his oddball comments. But that had changed toward the end of the week, when he withdrew from everyone.

"Eric, did you find him on any of the security cameras?" Callen asked.

Eric ran through them all, finally seeing him walk out one of the side doors and head down the street. He was carrying a large shopping bag. The time stamp showed he had left the building almost two hours before. Eric checked traffic cams in the area and discovered he had caught a cab a few blocks away.

"Where the hell is he going?" Kensi was confused by his actions. "He never said anything to me about going anywhere."

"I might be able to answer that question, Ms. Blye." Hetty walked silently into the bullpen and they all turned toward her. "A couple of days ago, he asked if he could see the file I had on his father. He'd returned it to me some time ago after I told him of his father's death. He was interested in where his father was buried."

"So you think that's where he's going?" Sam asked, looking quickly at Kensi, who had a stricken look on her face.

"I suspect he is, and I'm not sure he should be there alone," Hetty looked pointedly at each of them, especially Kensi. "Too many demons to handle alone."

She handed them a slip of paper and the team was out the door in seconds.

It was almost dark when they pulled up to the shabby cemetery. They saw a cab waiting by the entrance to the main building and Sam went over and questioned the driver and then paid him for his time. They drove onto the grounds and finally saw Deeks standing over a grave with a pile of clothes in his hands. As they got out of the car and started toward him, he dropped the clothes on the ground and stood back for a moment before noticing them.

"Hey Deeks," Callen called out to him. Kensi walked quickly up to him and took his arm, followed by Sam, who looked at the clothes on the ground and immediately understood.

"I should have known I couldn't sneak away from Federal agents," Deeks said as he stared at the signature clothes of Max Gentry lying on his father's grave.

"We're here for you, Deeks," Callen said as he gently squeezed his shoulder.

"We're a team, remember?" Sam said as he put his hand on Deeks' back, noticing the tears that had pooled in his eyes.

"You don't have to do this alone, Marty," Kensi faced him and put her hand on his cheek and he finally lost it, breaking down in front of them with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

The four of them stood together for a long time and when Deeks finally got himself under control, the three agents stepped back as Deeks poured lighter fluid on Max Gentry's clothes and lit them on fire. The flames began to lick at the dark leather and slowly crawled over the filthy jeans and torn hoody. Deeks stepped back as the flames consumed the last remnants of the dark alias that had fought for his soul and lost. He turned and pulled Kensi close and threw his arm around Callen's shoulder as Sam briefly rested his hand on the back of his neck. Then he and the team slowly walked away. He didn't look back.

...


End file.
